Between the Gates
by black-klepon
Summary: One morning Alfred woke up in Edward’s body and vice versa. While Ed had the objective to find the Stone, Alfred had no idea what he should do in Amestris...
1. Prologue

Warning(s): Language, shonen-ai

Disclaimer: Don't own FMA and Hetalia. FMA belongs to Hiromu Arakawa-sensei (who is one of the BEST mangaka ever) and Hidekaz Himaruya-sensei (who has the amazing idea of Alfred and co. :D)

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Prologue

Alfred stirred from his sleep, groaning as the bright rays of sunlight hit his eyes. He had slept far too late last night, and today was Sunday so he'd really love to bury his head in his pillow again. But even as it was, he still had to get himself out of bed. And so he rolled to his back, but never expected to hit a cold floor with a loud _thump _instead.

The American lay there, frozen as he mumbled loudly, "what the heck?" As far as he knew his bed was bigger than this time that he could do a full roll three times, so how in the name of God could it shrink in one night?!

Dragging half of his upper body up, he looked around the room confusedly. There was nothing similar to his bedroom, even the walls were different. His walls were painted light brown, but these were painted white… and very plain except for one painting of a mountain. Not to mention that the space was too small for his comfort.

And another thing… he was sure as hell that he had worn blue pajamas for bed, and now the clothes' color was brown?! If this was a trick Alfred would remember to punch the day out of the person doing this.

He yawned – more like groaned, actually – loudly and forced himself to stand up. It wasn't a dream, he knew, but the fact that he was probably inside someone's apartment room unnerved him. Had someone kidnapped him while he was asleep last night? Even so, why run the trouble of changing his pajamas? The thought made him quiver a bit, because hell he might be in some place that he had never known.

Alfred looked at the coffee table beside the small bed and noticed one more thing: his glasses were missing.

And then he gaped. "WHAT THE HELL DID I DO WRONG THAT YOU HAD TO THROW AWAY MY GLASSES ALSO?!" He yelled desperately, his brain apparently not working at all, "y-you, whoever or whatever you are!!"

Banging his head on the nearest wood he could find, the American could vaguely heard frantic clanking footsteps coming closer to his direction. His head was spinning now, and he'd love to just slump back into the bed now, however uncomfortable it might be… but then the sound of door slamming open stopped him in his track.

A tall, huge grayish figure stood at the door, and Alfred had to shake his head to clear his view. There, just in the middle of the door stood a suit of armor with sharp, pointy spikes on its shoulders. The young nation immediately forgot what he was thinking as he deadpanned, "wow."

"Brother, are you alright? I heard your scream from the outside," Alfred put on a blanched face as he could only stare at the _talking _suit of armor. For several more seconds he kept staring at it; one of his legs already folded on the blanket, and his left hand clenching the white quilt.

"Uh." Was the only reply the American could muster.

"Really, Brother," the suit of armor _walked _forward, "are you alright? Your scream was louder than usual…" It raised its right hand and rubbed the back of its helmet in what Alfred assumed as a confused gesture.

But as he was probably already turning white with fear, the American did what his instincts told him to do. He leaped back – could feel the concrete wall behind him – pointed to the armor and screamed, "GHOST!!" His brain was filled with lots of ways to escape this place – jump from the window, ram the armor and such – but as a hero, he wouldn't let himself do those things! …Even so, his feet were threatening to collapse.

The armor had the affronted-like expression on its helmet, and it put its hand on its hips. "What do you mean, _ghost_, Ed?"

Alfred was preparing for his unheroic escape as the last word clicked in his mind. He turned his head slowly, staring at the two spots of light that were probably the eyes, and stated, "what do you mean, _Ed_?"

An awkward silence ascended upon them as the two stared at each other. Being the impatient person as he was, Alfred spoke first. "I'll be speaking first, ghost-of-an-armor or whatever you are," he ignored the sharp look he was given, "'cause I'm not Ed. I'm Alfred F. Jones, for your information."

"…Are you sure you didn't smash your head yesterday, Brother?" The armor asked again, its tone disbelieving, "'cause I can hardly see anything wrong on the outside from here."

The American paused for a moment to take a deep breath, and raised his right arm, pointing at the standing figure on the door. "I tell you once again, man…" And that was when he noticed something really different about himself.

His right arm did move smoothly, but when the sunlight hit it, his arm gleamed once. For the umpteenth time that morning, he had to pause again as shock hit him like a tidal wave.

His right arm was made of steel. Of _fucking _steel.

Good, how could his morning get any worse?

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME THIS MORNING?!" His exasperated yell rang through the floor even until the last room at the end.

****

The morning chirps jolted Edward awake that morning. Since when did the birds decided to come back to the tree behind his room? As far as he could remember he hadn't heard of them for at least a year or so…

He rubbed his bleary eyes with his left hand and stretched his body. Gate, that was one of the best sleeps he'd had over the past few years… how had he missed sleeps like that… with all the assignments and missions that were given to him, he barely had any time to rest properly. He still had to recover Al's body, and still had to do all the researches about the Stone.

Blinking twice, he noticed something strange about how his body and his room. His room looked _a lot_ bigger, and even though he felt refreshed there was something that was nagging in his head… Looking down, he knew what that was.

He was wearing someone else's pajamas.

As he was trying to be patient and logical, Edward drew a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to relax. Panic wouldn't do him any good to solve this matter of why was he wearing someone's blue pajamas.

First logical answer: He was dreaming. Illogical denial: He felt so good that he didn't want it to be a dream.

Second logical answer: Someone kidnapped him and brought him to this room. Illogical denial: Why bring him to this room? Why not dump him in one of the streets and kill him at the moment? Thought he wouldn't prefer that; if he died then what would become Al's fate? Illogical denial level two: Edward knew that he'd made people's life look like hell, but he knew no one that he'd so badly destroy to hate him that much…

And so he decided after a moment, that a cup of morning caffeine – Mustang was really rubbing this habit on him – would help him better.

The older Elric felt unnaturally light as he jumped from his larger bed. He swung his body around and saw a glimpse of his right arm – _flesh _right arm.

Edward almost ripped the blue sleeve in order to prove his eyes that he wasn't drunk out of his mind. His automail… his right flesh hand had returned?! But when? More importantly, _how_? Years of dealing with the Gate let he knew that it would never give anything for free… so that would mean that his automail was a price; but he'd lost… Al in the process.

"Hell with it, you damn Gate! I'd prefer my automail if it means losing Al!" He said through gritted teeth, "fuck it, what is this damn place anyway?!"

The door opened with a rather loud slam, forcing the older Elric to turn his head. He spotted a blond with rather impressive eyebrows frowning back at him with a _you're-ruining-the-peaceful-morning-you-idiot _look. They stared at each other for some time before Ed cleared his throat. "Erm. Sorry about that."

The blond's frown got even deeper, and he replied, "I don't think that all those years of wars are finally taking its toll on you, Al? I thought you were the one who told me to keep fighting till the end."

Ed gaped after the blond finished his sentence. "I'm sorry, but _who_? I think you just called me Al."

"Well," he began in a neutral tone as he placed the tray on the small table next to the doorframe, "it _is _your name after all. Or what do you prefer to be called, git or twat?"

The older Elric jabbed his chest with his left thumb and stated, "but I'm Edward Elric. Isn't it obvious?"

"My eyes are still intact, Alfred, even if I'm far older than you." The blond retorted back, "there's nothing wrong with me but there surely is something wrong with _you_."

Edward's patience was starting to get lower now… and he was just going to snap back when the blond standing across the room spoke again, "you try looking at the mirror. 'cause I can't find anything wrong."

He wanted to yell to deny the blond's statement, but Ed couldn't find it in himself to completely don't trust the thick eyebrows owner. And so with a heavy heart, he trudged over to the mirror located near a cupboard and stared at his reflection.

For one second he had a blank look on his face – except that it wasn't _his_ face – and then the next second he went into a rampage of curses and swearing.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE GATE HAPPENED TO ME?!"

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A/N: This is only the prologue, since this is supposed to be a light fic after all :) Tell me what you think, please?


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Alfred kept yelling, thrashing and wailing until the armor grabbed him by his arms, effectively stopping his actions. But the American was well-known for his rock head, and there was no way in hell that he was going to give up even if his opponent was a walking suit of armor. "Lemme down, you armor!"

"I don't know where'd Brother gone to," the armor tightened his lock on the wailing blond, and its helmet clanked as he glared down, "but I'm not going to let you off until you calm down. I need some explanations as to why you're here and not Brother. You can count on my words for that."

Eventually Alfred calmed down, even though it kind of hurt to give up a fight against a suit of armor. Looking down, he pouted and mumbled, "fine, but let me down."

The suit of armor stood still, its lock still not loosening even a bit. "Can you keep your words if I let you down?"

The American could felt the grip on his shoulders loosening a bit, and he dared a glance at the helmet behind his head. "Keep my words then."

Nodding, the suit of armor let the man down, and placed its hands on its hips. Fixing the American with what he supposed was a glare, it spoke, "now if you're not Brother, tell me your name."

Sighing, Alfred rubbed his face with his left hand. "I'm Alfred F. Jones, as I've said before. Now why don't you tell me your name before I start freaking out again? I don't want to be speaking to a suit of armor without a name."

"I'm Alphonse Elric, nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. Or should I call you Alfred?" Alphonse answered, his pose relaxing.

"Call me Alfred, that's fine." The American shrugged and then sat down cross-legged. Raising the steel hand, he clenched it into a fist. "As much as I want to know where the heck is this place, I'd prefer knowing what this steel hand's about."

"That's automail, Alfred, and this place is called Amestris." The suit of armor followed into a sitting position with his hands on his lap, "and the body you're currently in belongs to my older brother, Edward Elric."

The young nation hummed quietly, his frantic mind beginning to relax. Now at least he knew where he was and who this suit of armor was, so he could calm down and think about this more carefully.

"May I know where are you from, Alfred?" Alphonse inquired smoothly, his helmet tilting to the side a bit.

"I-uh…" Scratching the back of his head, the young nation pondered whether he should lie or not. But considering the nagging feeling in his gut that he could trust this Alphonse, he answered it truthfully. "I'm from the United States of America."

"A… merica?" The younger Elric asked, his tone curious. "I've never seen it on the map nor heard about it…"

The young blond gaped at the statement and waved both his hands. "Hello, America? You've never seen nor _heard _about me – I mean, the USA?"

The suit of armor stood up and walked over to the small cupboard located next to the door and opened its top drawer. Pulling what Alfred assumed as a map, Alphonse rolled it open and pointed to the center of the paper. "We are here; Amestris," and he dragged his big leather finger up, to a far bigger area, "and this is Drachma."

Alfred raised his hand, and had Alphonse been a human he would've raised his eyebrow. "Uh, permission to speak?"

Alphonse stayed quiet for moment, and the American wondered if he'd said anything wrong. He had already opened his mouth to ask, but the hollow sound of laughter cut him off. "Eh, what's so funny?"

"N-no," the younger Elric managed to say between his laughing, and shook his helmet. "It's just… you don't have to speak very formal, okay? You're in my brother's body, and even though I know that you're not the same person it's just weird to see him – or you – speak like that…"

"Oh." The young blond tried not to roll his eyes, because he thought that this suit of armor sitting across him was as strict as Iggy. "Ah, anyway… that area you called Drachma… it looked more like Russia to me."

"I wouldn't ask where that is, because I've never heard that name… again."

The American found no need to gape _again_, and so he just nodded, letting the younger Elric continue.

"This is Creta, the west of Amestris; and this is Aerugo, the south of Amestris." Alphonse moved his finger again to the east side, and jabbed the area. "This is the desert where a city called Xerxes used to be – they say – and next to the desert is a huge country called Xing."

"Okay…" Alfred drawled slowly, trying to grab all the information he was just given, although he had to admit he had never seen such places in the map. Well okay he kinda… failed… in geography, but for bigger landscape such as the continents he knew where they were. But this? He had never heard those names, he had never seen them in the map, and most of all Alphonse had admitted that he had never heard of _America_.

Where the heck was he?

"Uh, Al?" He called, something else came to his mind.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you wearing a suit of armor?"

For several seconds an intense silence stretched over them, and the younger Elric looked down. "If I show you, you wouldn't believe me, Alfred."

Now that caught his interest even more. "Come on, you can show me. I won't tell – I'll believe you anyway. There's nobody else that I know of in this place."

Alphonse eventually nodded and grabbed his helmet. Hesitating for a moment, he finally took it off and lowered his body for the American to see. "Now you know," the hollow sound emanated from the inside.

Alfred promptly fainted, not caring if that was a thing that a hero would never do.

Arthur did the only thing that came to his mind – even though he could feel his ears were buzzing – and tackled the taller blond. He didn't care if it was still morning and it was very ungentleman-like thing to do, the most important thing was that he needed to stop his ex-colony from screaming and did something crazier.

He braced himself when the younger nation fell above him, effectively knocking the air out of his lungs. "Oof!" He gasped.

"Hey, what was that for?" Edward yelped, immediately brought his body up again.

"To," the Briton coughed, "stop you from doing anything even stupider." Propping himself up on his elbows, he glared at the kneeling American in front of him. "Now you better give me a good reason why you had to yell at a time like this."

Ed pushed himself into a totally standing position, and put his hands on his hips. "Firstly, because I woke up with my right hand in place again. Secondly, I looked at a mirror and found out that I am _not_ in my body."

The Englishman leveled a neutral look on the standing blond. "You are _not_ in your body."

"Yep."

"Which means you are _not_ Alfred, the young and obnoxious git."

"Yes." As soon as the word came out of his mouth, Ed could feel that he was being crushed to the concrete wall with someone's hand on his neck, making it harder for him to breathe. He looked down to find the blond glaring right at him – actually, he wouldn't be lying if he said that that glare was the scariest he'd ever seen. And the owner of it was pinning him to the wall by his forearm, within a position full of advantage to the shorter blond.

"Tell me where he is, or I promise you that you wouldn't live to see tomorrow." Arthur said calmly, even though the tone of his voice was all but deadly.

The older Elric was glad that he was inside someone's body with enough amount of strength to push back. He tried to shove the forearm that was really starting to choke him, but all he could do was to give himself enough air to speak. "I'll explain," he gasped, "b-but you're not allowing me to do so!"

"I'll stop doing so if you promise not to run away."

Feeling the pressure on his neck gradually lessening, Edward finally managed to shove his attacker away. One moment before they were looking at each other like an idiot and the next moment he was on the receiving end of the blond's wrath. Panting for breath, he looked up to see those piercing green eyes still glaring at him. "See? I didn't run away, okay?"

"Now tell me who are you and what the fuck are you doing in the git's body." The Briton stated.

Edward knew that his chance of escaping were down to zero with the blond across him in a predatory figure. Instead, he sat down on the cold floor and crossed his arms. "I'm Edward Elric, as I've said before. And before you ask anything else; no I didn't do anything to this man you called Alfred, I have no idea where he is and I absolutely have no idea where I am."

Arthur found it hard to believe what he'd just heard. But as it came from the twat's mouth – even though the soul inside was not his – as always, he couldn't really refuse the explanation, as absurd as it was. "…Fine." He finally said, following the taller blond to sit down. "I'm Arthur Kirkland."

"Well," Ed began, "can we just stay like this, not getting at each other's throat?"

The older nation stayed quiet for a few seconds, and spoke again in a calmer tone, "sorry, I got carried away… your yell pushed me too far, so I guess I can't really blame you either."

"That's fine," the older Elric shoved it away with a wave of his hand. "But anyway, can you tell me where I am? Or whatever you can tell me in general?"

The Englishman tilted his head to the side, thinking of what should he say to the man before him. "First off, you're in the USA. Second, you're in my friend – I mean, ally's body, Alfred F. Jones."

"Where exactly is this USA?" Ed asked, curious.

Confused, Arthur provided an answer that he swore was very unintelligent. "In the continent of America."

"To what side of Amestris?"

"…Artemis?" He frowned. This was certainly not going anywhere.

"Amestris, come on. Is this place nearer to Drachma, Creta, Aerugo or even Xing?"

_In the name of the Queen and for the holy God's sake…_ Arthur drew a breath, and then said, "let me just say that Xing is China – or Japan. And Drachma is Russia." He shuddered, but continued nonetheless, "then Aerugo is around Italy, which means that Creta would be me." _God, that just sounded very wrong. _"I'll say that America is the left of Creta across a huge ocean." _What the hell, the Earth is round anyway._

Edward processed the information inside his head. And when he came into a conclusion, he slapped his face and banged the back of his head to the wall. "Then that means I'm on the other _fucking_ side of the Gate."

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A/N: Good Lord, the last part was confusing ;A; But I guess… and anyway, thanks for those who reviewed~ What can I say, the plot itself – originally – isn't so thick… but… we'll see, hehe. Reviews please? :)


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Um… one thing to say… this story is around the Cold War in Alfred's world, and Ed's seventeen going eighteen…

And other thing. I guess people could accept America/England pairing (I myself would like to believe that it's canon) but with FMA, I have no idea. Simply put, I'm more of a Al/Winry fan... and a Roy/Ed fan too. And usually not parental. So before I offend anyone, I'd like to ask: any suggestion regarding FMA? I currently have Parental!Roy/Ed, or shonen-ai/yaoi in mind... I'm open to suggestions, but please keep in mind that I have a hard time writing romance/fluff so even if such relationship existed in this story, it'd probably just a few.

Chapter 2

Alphonse bolted forward to catch the falling blond on his hands. Had he been a human, he would've sighed and shook his head. He knew this would happen every time people saw the inside of his steel body, and that was why he never showed it unless needed. He'd come to the point that he could live with it, even though he still wanted to be back in his human body. He missed the feeling of being able to touch again, to eat again, and to feel the warmth of the sun and the people around him... but he knew that they still had a long way to go before those things could be achieved.

"I told you..." He murmured quietly, putting the blond back on the bed again. Walking to the door, Al spared one last glance to the unconscious man and left the room with a soft click. It was better to leave Alfred for a while to let him recover from his shock, and meanwhile he could continue on his research again...

Several hours later Alfred cracked open an eye, peeking around the room. There was nobody around, so he pushed himself and propped on his right steel hand. This was all hard to digest, but he forced his slurred brain to work.

"...Alphonse?" He called into the empty room, not expecting an answer at all.

"Yeah?" The younger Elric answered as he opened the door, poking his head in which shocked the American. He had no idea the younger Elric was outside his room... "What's the matter, Al?"

"Uh, just wondering…" The young nation scratched the back of his head sheepishly, and gestured for Alphonse to come in. "Come in, Al, I have some more things to ask, if you don't mind…"

The suit of armor made a clanking nodding-like sound, and entered the room slowly. To surprise Alfred again was in the bottom of his to-explain list. "Okay." He answered honestly, the armor clanking quietly in the room.

"So, um…"

"You wanted to know why my inside was empty." The younger Elric provided, "it's a long story to go… but I guess you have plenty of time to listen." He paused, "do you?"

Alfred nodded as his answer. "If you will."

Alphonse kneeled down, grabbed one of the drawers and pulled out a book. It was the basic book of alchemy learning, the one he and Ed used to learn after their father had left. He supposed that the man across him would need to know the crucial thing about Ed in this world, but wouldn't need to understand the full extent of his brother's real ability. That was, as long as Roy and his team could keep the secret… "You must know that in this world there is one form of science that stands out the most – alchemy."

The young nation blinked, clearly taken aback. Alchemy… he once heard the nations in Europe talked about it… said that it was a medieval science that could turn any metal into gold, and even said that alchemy could extent the user's lifespan. But he was one of the most modern countries – as he'd like to believe – not like Iggy and his friends… it wouldn't hurt to ask, anyway. "Alchemy, as in, the science that was said to allow the changing from metal to gold?"

Then it was Alphonse's turn to get surprised. "There was alchemy in your world?"

Frowning, Alfred mumbled, "I think it does… eh, did," he corrected, "around the medieval ages…"

Now that caught the alchemist's attention. "Tell me, Al, what year is it in your world?"

"Eh, the year? I think it's around the Cold War, 1950 to 1960… can't remember exactly. All I had in mind was how to keep my people from that bastard Ivan's assault."

_To keep my people from the bastard Ivan's assault… _Was this Alfred a leader or a king from where he originally belonged? But he couldn't bring himself to think that the man was a leader… well, it was probably bad for him to judge from the first glance… "Are you a leader or a king, Alfred?"

He almost choked when the words left the suit of armor. _King? _He snorted with disbelief, ignoring the warning expression that was etched on the armor head – as far as expressions were allowed to show themselves, anyway. "No way!" He half-laughed and waved the automail, "I might be the leading nation, but hell no I'm not a king!"

"Then why did you say that you had to protect your people?" Alphonse pressed on, his curious side taking over. He knew it was rather rude, especially when he barely knew the person… but he was the only one Alfred knew in Amestris.

His laughter stopped into a halt when the question registered itself in his – _Ed's_ – brain. He believed that he'd got a good brain despite what other nations told him; it was just that he was really lazy to use it. He could use it anytime he wanted to, but in fact there was really nothing worth it to put his mind to full use. He scrambled for an answer, but from Alphonse's posture he could tell that he wouldn't take anything but honest answer. And so, deciding that it wouldn't do him any good if he lied, he sighed. "Fine, I'm neither a leader nor a king. I don't really know whether you'd understand it or not, but I'm a nation."

Had he been a human, Al would've sputtered or choked, clearly shocked. "_Nation_?" He repeated, "like, you're the representation of your people?"

"Yep." The American nodded firmly. "I represent my people, so if anything happen to them affects me too. That's why I couldn't let anything harm them, else it'd result in hurting me also."

The younger Elric grasped the information bit by bit, trying to take them all in. If Alfred was a nation… then that meant that if nothing ever happened to his people, he would continue to live… right? "So if nothing ever happened to your people, Alfred, you would… continue to live on and on?"

Scratching his head for the right thing to say, the young man began, "I guess you could say so… though from what I've heard, when the government was thrown or a very different kind of government took over the old one, nations would disappear… that's what I've heard. You'd have to ask Iggy things like that; he's much older than me, so he should know lots of things I don't…"

"How old are you really, Al?"

"Um… I'm 19, really… but for the age of the nation… almost two centuries, I'd say."

Alphonse was seriously considering knocking himself out – if he could – and restart his day all over again. Here he was – although had given up on using the Philosopher's Stone to restore their body – sometimes peeking on a way to live longer than most people do… no, not living in a suit of armor like this. Flesh and blood, with longer lifespan than most people… he'd always thought that it was an impossible dream. Even if people had never given up trying to figure out a way to acquire immortality; he'd always known that nobody would ever find it. Simply because everything in this world would eventually come to an end, and nobody could deny that fate.

"Are there anyone else older than you, Al?"

"Uh, let's see…" Alfred began, counting with his fingers, "there's Iggy, then there's Francis, and then… oh yeah, there's Yao! He's more than thousands years old!" He said with a laugh.

The younger Elric fell to the floor with a loud clank.

'_Must be dreaming, must be dreaming… where Mom never died and Dad never left…_' He told himself repeatedly, but still couldn't bring himself to believe it.

Alarmed, the American jumped to his feet and kneeled beside the younger Elric. Did he just say something wrong? He was telling the truth, as far as he knew… but _the _truth for normal human was _really _shocking. When a normal human would've usually lived for 60 to 100 years, he'd just said that Yao had lived for 4.000 years. Maybe he should be glad that Alphonse didn't faint right when he'd told him… "Alphonse, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." The hollow drawling sound emanated from inside the suit of armor, but his mind was definitely not okay. "I'm fine…" He tried to sound convincing and pulled himself up. With a little help from the young nation, he clamped a gloved hand over the holes that acted as his eyes. "Now let me finish what I have to tell you if you're going to stay here for a while…"

Alfred eyed him warily, and asked, "really, Al? If you're not feeling so good you can rest, y'know…"

The young alchemist stopped for a moment, and replied helplessly, "I wish I could, Alfred. I've always wished that I would be able to sleep at night, just like you all…"

"The other side of the... Gate?" Arthur frowned deeply. He hadn't had the slightest idea of what this... Ed, was talking about. "What Gate?"

"You wouldn't know, Arthur. Would never know about that thing's existence; not on this side." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he then continued, "probably wouldn't even heard about alchemy."

That last word caught the Brit's interest. "I've heard about alchemy, yes. The science that was said to be able to turn metal into gold, if I'm not mistaken."

"Well yeah, that's what most non-alchemist people know. Common knowledge; and that's why the military dispatched State Alchemists." Slowly, Ed looked up and looked directly to the Englishman's green eyes.

And much to his chagrin, Arthur was taken aback by the intensity of the leveled stare. Alfred's - or Ed's, now - blue eyes were much sharper, and he was sure that if he hadn't known better he would've been trapped by the look, or probably be squirming on his place.

But as quick as it came, the sharp look disappeared the second Arthur opened his mouth. Those blue eyes returned to their usual shine, although now with a sharper edge.

And Arthur swore to himself that he would never doubt Ed's ability ever again. He knew that Alfred might look like a total daft idiot most of the times, but it was all just a facade to hide the bright mind inside that rock head. The American could match Ivan if he wanted to, and Arthur wasn't one to see the dark side of Alfred.

Now, combined with the unknown length of Edward's intelligence and the young nation's sharp mind; this man across him was a very formidable opponent, but a -probably- irreplacable ally.

...He'd somehow miss the git, though...

Edward's rather gruff sigh brought the former pirate back to reality. "Ah, damnit!" He complained, scrunching his face and messed his blonde hair. "Fuck, just when I still have to restore Al's original body!"

This, of course, didn't escape his notice. Curious as he was, he didn't want to annoy Edward more, and so he succumbed into silence once again.

After several more mutual silence, the Brit was the first to break it. "So, uh," he coughed, trying to get Ed's attention. He did, and resumed, "should I start assuming or would you tell me yourself?"

"Right, that's enough complaining. Now; I'm Edward Elric, or what some people would prefer, Fullmetal Alchemist. I'm an Amestrian, and am currently enlisted in the military as a State Alchemist and Major." Ed explained, "under Brigadier-General Mustang's command, and I have a younger brother, Alphonse Elric."

Arthur listened to the older Elric's statement intently, trying his best not to let anything slip off his mind. So the man was a military-man also, huh. He half wondered what the Amestris military looked like... the Russian?

...Bad idea, and he shuddered inwardly. The Red Army was ruthless, and with a massive amount of enlisted personels, it was a major threat. Especially with the Cold War raging on and on.

But... a nagging feeling in his gut told him that Ed was still hiding some of the truth. Again, he knew that it was rude to make him spill the facts; but if they were going to solve this matter, nothing should be left out. Even the smallest mistake could be fatal, experiences of wars had planted the fact firmly in his consciousness.

"You still have something that you're not telling, do you." It was a statement rather than a question, and the surprised look in those blue eyes confirmed his suspicion.

Edward fidgeted on his place for a moment. Should he tell about their history, that Al had lost his flesh body, or shouldn't he? He needed all the help that was provided in order to succeed... but... could he trust this man across him?

As if sensing Ed's doubt, Arthur spoke again, "don't worry, I won't tell anyone. You can tell me, it's fine, I won't spoil them out."

That was the final push to help Edward pour his secrets. Then he began to tell all that had happened, ever since he and Al had tried to bring their mom back with human transmutation.

About an hour and a half later, Edward was wrapping up his story, and Arthur was halfway of having an earache and a headache.

Well, what had he expected? He'd expected something... bad, but this was dreadful. Worse than most of the things he'd experienced. Sure, there were more that he could name... but trying to resurrect your mom with alchemy... was not something common. Very rare indeed. Then losing your arm, leg, and even entire body... how could anyone possibly live through all that? All people knew that bringing the dead back to life was forbidden, yet this man - no, boy - had tried to perform the taboo... didn't anyone ever told him that it was God's choice to decide human life? Speaking of that... "Tell me, Ed. You do know that God is the one who decide to take someone's life or not, right?" He hoped that he didn't sound too much like lecturing him...

For a moment there was silence. Then the older Elric took a deep breath, and looked at the Briton. Something glinted in those blue eyes, something he couldn't name, mostly because he'd never seen it.

The end of Edward's lips quirked into a crooked smile, and he eyed him bitterly - also regretfully. "When you've experienced things like us, you would know. Losing someone you loved dearly; killing when you absolutely despised the idea; died to protect an ideal... you would know. At least, that's it for me. I've seen my part, Al's got his portion, and even Mustang has." Edward paused, before continuing, "I only lost my arm and leg; Alphonse lost all. That's the price we've to pay for the sin we commited. Soldiers, like that General Bastard, almost lost his sanity, I believe, during the Ishbal Extermination War. That was his price for joining the State. So..." he paused again, and laughed mirthlessly, "frankly, no, I don't believe in God any more."

Although it took Arthur a while for the words to sink, he eventually nodded in comprehension. This young man across him might be young, but from his experiences and the weight and meaning of his words, the Briton just knew that Ed was much more mature than most people his age.

Half of his mind wondered if there were anyone that had been through such things or even worse...

Then something dawned on him. He glanced quickly at the clock, and swore loudly. "Fuck it! Ed! Get the hell to the bathroom quickly! We need to get ready in fifteen minutes!" Jumping to his feet, Arthur scrambled to the cupboard and snatched some clothes, shoving it to the confused blond. "Get a damn shower quick, and I'll meet you in five more minutes. All of the git's soap and shampoo are in the bathroom, towels are ready - I'll meet you later." With that, the Englishman darted out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

Fllabergasted, Edward blinked once and stared at the pile of clothes on his hands. What was that...? He shook his head, but entered the bathroom nonetheless.

Confused as he may, he was more than curious to see this world, outside this room. Was it any different from his own world?

With that thought in mind, he began undressing himself in front of the mirror. He was silently shocked - he'd always hoped that he would get taller someday, but seeing him taller in someone else's body just seemed... wrong.

And what was with this tuft of hair that wouldn't get down?


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Silence stretched between them again as Alfred let Alphonse's words sink. He wished that he could sleep... what did he mean? Surely he could rest... right? "Does that mean you can't sleep, Al...?"

His steel head clanked quietly as Alphonse shook it. Looking down at the carpet, he then said, "this body doesn't need any rest, Alfred, nor does it need any food or energy."

The American blinked. No, this man had to be kidding! No man could ever live without any rest or food! Even a robot needed to be charged once in a while! Just when he almost voiced his thought, Al beat him to it.

"That's the result of having your soul attached to a suit of armor... this." Pointing a gloved thumb to the chest plate, he continued again, "I can live as long as the blood seal inside me doesn't get washed out or scratched..."

"Well, uh... isn't that supposed to be... good?" Alfred scratched his nape with his flesh hand, not wanting the hair to be stuck with the automail. By all means, that meant Al could live almost forever if he wanted to, right? As long as the blood seal didn't get erased... But at the younger Elric's sharp look, he had to reconsider his words.

"For people striving for immortality, this is it, Alfred. They wouldn't die." Alphonse calmly stated. He wouldn't get angry with this man, simply because Alfred wouldn't know a thing about this world. For him and his people; maybe, immortality was something unattainable, but to obtain it with the result of having your soul attached to a suit of armor was nonsense. "Listen to me, Alfred. Yes, I can live longer than most people... but do you know the consequences?"

The young nation shook his head slowly.

"You don't need rest, you don't need to eat; basically you don't need to do the crucial things to human. But with that; you can't sleep. You can't die. When the others - your family, maybe - sleep at night, all you can do is to sit beside their bed, waiting for them to wake up. When others are dying, you'll be tearing yourself apart inside because you could only watch them die. You might want to kill yourself because you knew it was your fault, but it's hard." The young alchemist explained. He would never want anyone doing their mistake again, ever. "It might look good from the outside, but nobody has ever lived it from the inside, so they wouldn't know. _I _have lived it from the inside, I know, so I'm not lying when I say it's bad."

The young nation observed the suit of armor across him carefully. If he himself didn't want to be inside the suit of armor, then how could he possibly be inside it...? "So how could you end up stuck in it, Al? Surely there must've been something wrong, right? If you said that your soul was attached, then one way or another, someone or something removed it from your actual body, then put it there."

Alphonse nodded. Alfred had quite a bright mind... whether it was because he was inside his brother's body or what he had no idea. "I guess I haven't told you what caused this, have I."

"No, uh, you haven't." The American answered nervously. Something nagging in his gut told him that what he was going to hear wouldn't be good...

The younger Elric glanced at the nearby clock. 9 a.m... guess he would have to call the General, then.

In total, he spent one hour and a bit more to explain his situation to Alfred. That included the man's questions already; and he was half-surprised at how fast Alfred's understanding capability was. At first he thought that the American was probably only joking when he'd said he understood all, but he wasn't lying. He _did _understand all; more than enough to hide the fact that he was Alfred F. Jones, not Edward Elric. And aside from his initial reaction, the rest had gone fairly well

"So," Alphonse sighed and brought himself to a standing position, "I think you should go take a bath, Alfred. You'd have to report to Brigadier-General Mustang later, and you'd have to at least prepare yourself... he's a smart man, you see."

Alfred hmm-ed to himself, and nodded eventually. "Guess he's more of the tactical type, right?"

"Yeah..." Alphonse agreed, "you could say so. Brother is usually the field man, doing missions from him." He paused, seemed to think for a moment. Deciding that he didn't really have anything important to say any more, he urged the waiting American to the bathroom as he said, "now would you take a bath, Al? We need to get to Central Headquarters soon; I'll call the Brigadier-General when you take a bath, okay?"

"Sure, no prob." Shrugging, Alfred headed to the said room, grabbing a towel in the process. Before he closed the door though, he paused and asked over his shoulder, "um, Al? Where are my - eh, Ed's - clothes?"

"Oh," the younger Elric pointed to a wardrobe near the corner of the room, "they're all in there, Alfred. And don't ask about uniforms, because Brother never wears them. Just grab what you think are suitable and... decent enough, I guess." At the blond's nod and the door closing, he strolled out of the room to call his brother's commanding officer.

Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, Alfred had begun to undress himself, letting the pajamas pool on his feet. Stepping out of the small pile of clothes, he noticed a mirror above a sink, and proceeded there. That was where he took the privilege of several minutes to really observe Edward's appearance.

Aside from the eye-catching prosthetic limbs (for Alfred himself, at least), he just noticed it now... Edward kept his hair long. No, it wasn't like he didn't like people with long blonde hair... it was just unusual... He pondered silently how Ed managed to keep his hair soft when he was inside the military and a field person at the same time. Most people would just shave their head bald or had a crew-cut model, for simplicity in working outdoors. Maybe he ought to see how awesome Ed's fighting skill was that he didn't bother with his hair too much...

With that thought in mind, he entered the shower, and emerged out about seven minutes later, soaked from the very hair that stood out solely (_Ed had it too! _He thought happily) to his toes. The automail gleamed when the light from the lamp hit it, and he made a mental note to remind himself not to forget to dry it up... else it'd probably rust, and he wouldn't want to be blamed for such a thing. Heroes did not destroy after all!

He grabbed the white towel and dried his hair, then his body, before slinging it around his waist.

...Ed had quite a slim waist...

Shaking his head to clear the thought, he walked out of the bathroom, warm steam puffing out as soon as they were freed from the bathroom's confines. Glancing around the room, he noticed that no one was inside. No one in their right mind would be, anyway, unless they were lovers or whatever…

He headed towards the brown wardrobe, opening it and examining its contents. He scrunched his face as he noticed that there were not many variations, other than black and red. Alfred himself wasn't that much of a fashion person, but his taste was still better than this… or so he hoped. Black and red were cool; he liked red, definitely… but black was a color for mourning, right…?

But he shrugged it off nonetheless. He was sure to learn more about Edward, be it his personality or his references… Alfred grabbed a black tank top along with a vest and trousers of the same color. Throwing a sideways glance to the nearby mirror, the American deemed himself presentable and continued to grab a comb to finish the hair off. He didn't have long hair, so dealing with one was kind of hard… he decided to settle with a simple ponytail at last.

On his way out of the room, a red jacket that was hung on the pole caught his attention. Looking down on his chosen attire of the day, Alfred decided that he might as well don a red over black. He just hoped they wouldn't stand out too much...

The blond padded out of the room, poking his head out to the left to see Alphonse sitting on a sofa, holding what he assumed was the day's paper.

The subtle click made the younger Elric turn his helmet towards his brother's room. "Oh, you're done." The helmet tilted slightly to the right, "are you ready to go, Alfred?"

"Um, yeah - eh, wait." Waving the automail, he gestured to his feet, "shoes?"

"They're near the entrance on the shelves," the young alchemist stood up and began to walk towards the door, "now come on; Brigadier-General Mustang has a mission for you, he said."

"Sure." The American waved it off-handedly. Whatever mission it was, he was sure that he could do it – there was nothing that a hero couldn't do!

The walk to the Central HQ was relatively comfortable for him, he had to admit. If he could say, though, the air in this Central was fresher than the air in America, by just a bit. There were lots of building in Central, sure, but for some reason it was kind of better. Maybe it was because that the technology here was quite… old – for the lack of more suitable word – than it was in his hometown. It took them about half an hour to reach said place, excluding the time Alfred spent for getting around the town.

He stood before the mighty stairs that led to the main building, mouth a little gaped. It was… quite amazing, literally. The staircase was, um, grand, and _high_. The ground it covered, he estimated, was spacious enough for hundreds of troops – and it was in the middle of the city! He decided to ask this out.

"Eh, Al? Why is the military's HQ in the middle of a city?"

"Um…" The sound came as a gentle vibrate, and Alfred waited patiently for the answer as they climbed up the stairs. "I… don't really know, actually, now that you've said it…"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged lightly, shoving his hand into the jeans' pockets, "I mean, if the base is located amidst the people; wouldn't an enemy attack crush the place along with the city? Enormous collateral damage, I say." At the younger Elric's stare, he quickly coughed and looked away, "um, just ignore what I've said, 'kay?"

But instead of doing Al's suggestion, Alphonse hummed. In agreement or thought, he couldn't really guess. Somewhere between both, probably. "Yes… what you've just said is true, Al. Maybe I'll talk to the Brigadier-General about this, see what his opinions are. Moving the whole base is impossible, but maybe relocating the soldiers is a good choice…" He trailed off, and Alfred could only grin sheepishly. Yes, he'd made the wrong decision in his world, and he wasn't about to do the same again. Even worse when he was trapped in Edward's body. He wouldn't want to corrupt Ed's name with his actions after all.

Soon enough they arrived in Mustang's office, with Alphonse leading all the way through. They'd passed through some standing guards and soldiers, and Alfred had greeted them shortly with a passing smile.

He didn't quite catch the shocked look and several gaping mouths after they'd passed, though.

Knocking on the door, the young Alchemist poked his head into the room. The American only stood outside, observing his surroundings.

"Is the Brigadier-General here, Lieutenant?" He asked.

"Yes, he's inside." Hawkeye confirmed, tilting her head just a bit. "Where's Edward?"

"Oh-um…" He looked away for a moment before answering, "he's outside." His hand pulled the end of the red jacket, indicating Alfred to come in.

And enter he did.

XXX

Edward looked self-consciously at his attire for the day. He wasn't the type of person that cared too much about his looks; just enough to look decent. But that was in his own world. Here in Earth, he had no idea what people thought in general, hopefully that clothing wasn't too much of a first impression.

Glancing quickly at the clock that hung above the doorframe, he subconsciously rubbed his neck, still feeling a bit alienated without his usual long hair. It felt weird, having a short hair, despite the fact that he used to have one when he was still just a small child. He'd considered cutting his hair for a few times now, actually, but still couldn't bring himself to fully do that. He really considered his rather long hair as one of his unusual trademarks, and was quite proud of it.

He crossed the room in four long nervous strides, grabbed the handle of the door and peeked outside. There was no one along the corridor, and Ed closed the door behind him. Walking slowly and cautiously until he reached the stairs, the older Elric began his descent down the steps. When he finally stepped his feet on the flat floor, he glanced around the room again, and found Arthur sitting on one of the armchairs.

The Briton seemed engrossed with the papers he currently held, so he decided not to disturb him and proceeded to get his morning fill. Coffee could hit the spot… and maybe some sandwiches or breads… either ways, as he arrived in the kitchen, the one thing that stood out the most for him was the refrigerator.

Pondering about whether to take the bread or the sandwich, Ed settled on ham and vegetable-filled sandwich as his breakfast and a cup of steaming coffee. "Where's the sugar…" He muttered to himself as he looked around the kitchen.

The young alchemist found the sugar, poured it and got out of the kitchen again. As he blew the steam off, he took a seat on the armchair and began, "Arthur, can I have the papers please?"

Yelping quietly, Arthur jerked his head up and had opened his mouth to yell, but as the fact of what had happened came back to him, he simply glared at the staring American. "Ed, please don't surprise me like that ever again."

The older Elric simply blinked owlishly. "...What? I wasn't intending to surprise you, I just wanted to ask for the paper." Shrugging, he added, "besides, I had my hands full of a cup of coffee, wouldn't want me to accidentally spill them on you, right?" With a raised eyebrow he sipped his coffee.

Grumbling, the Briton folded the paper and handed it over to the waiting man. "Here," he huffed, "now come on. You can read it in the car, we've got to leave now else we'd be late to the meeting."

"Meeting?" Ed paused in his drink, "what meeting?"

"The World Meeting," Arthur said, exasperated. "You don't have to worry about things you have to say, I'll back you up. As long as you can keep from blurting back before I say anything, then it's all good."

Edward nodded in understanding. He would not speak too much until Arthur told him to, so he could stay away from trouble as far as he could. But knowing him... maybe staying out of trouble's way was harder than getting himself into the trouble itself.

"…Okay." He nodded at last, albeit a bit reluctantly. Gulping the last of his coffee, Edward stood up and began to walk back to the kitchen to place the cup into the sink. When he returned back to the main room though, Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

Frowning, he then walked cautiously to the main entrance, where he found the Briton waiting for him with keys jingling between his fingers. He was up for a car drive then. But... "I'm not the one sitting on the driver's seat, am I? Because I don't think that the car would survive when I finally stepped on the brake."

The Englishman simply stared at him - which he didn't really heed - before saying, "no, Ed, of course not. Truth is, I kind of doubt cars in your world have the same system as it is here."

The older Elric shrugged but nodded nonetheless. "Well, come on then. You were the one who said that you wouldn't want to be late to the meeting, right?"

Arthur couldn't say no to that statement.

About half an hour later they arrived in the building that held that month's meeting, with the young alchemist getting off of the car first. The older blond would take the car into the parking lot and then meet him in front of the entrance. So Edward chose to lean against the wall as he waited for Arthur to return.

Just as he closed his eyes, someone called his name - or rather, Alfred's name.

"Al?"

And then he found himself staring at a reflection of the American's face. He froze in an instant.

"Alfred?" He heard the body owner's name being called again. He stayed still, afraid that if he opened his eyes or mouth then he would say something that could only bring trouble.

"Oh, good morning there, Matthew." Arthur's voice greeted the stranger, saving him from whatever that might let him slip.

"Ah, good morning too, Arthur." The stranger - Matthew, he noted - returned politely. A white bear stood right next to him, its black eyes staring right to his direction.

Edward kept the eye contest with the furry animal – mostly out of curiosity – until he broke it first and shuddered. The longer he stared at it, the stranger he felt… it was probably better if he tried to hide himself from the animal.

Shortly after, Arthur tugged the sleeves of his shirt to the direction of the entrance, and he followed without any complaints. The other blond was walking next to the Englishman, and the two were currently engaged in a chat about something Ed had no idea about.

Shrugging, he decide to simply observe his surroundings. The building was massive, and was packed with all sorts of stuff Ed had never even thought about. Lots of people were talking with something pressed between their hand and ear... they looked like telephones, but he wasn't really sure. How could they be a telephone when there were no cords attached?

And then there were a lot of screens. Ranging from big to small; he swore he just saw one of the biggest screens in his whole life. The workers (Ed assumed, as they were wearing uniforms but in different colors) were working with something to do with typing on a device he couldn't name. He made a mental note to ask Arthur later...

After some walk, they finally arrived in front of another huge steely entrance. Stairs were here and there, and the older Elric could understand why they didn't use them. They took the elevator, and here the lifting tool was far more advanced than those in Amestris. He could see the bottom floor when they first stepped in as the elevator brought them up; and was pinched by the still-chatting Briton to remind him from doing anything suspicious.

Finally, Arthur let Matthew into the room first and dragged him away. In the shadows of the wall, the other blond then began, "now listen, Ed. That person that I was talking with is Matthew, and he is Alfred's twin. You do something out of ordinary or anything that doesn't fit with the git, and he'll definitely notice. Alfred is, as you might know already, a loud and obnoxious young man, but in this case, I really hope that you can keep quiet to avoid attracting any other nation's attention."

"And... what am I supposed to do when there would be questions directed to me?"

"I'll try my best to cover you - as far as my knowledge of America's condition permit - and until then, just try not to be in the spotlight." Pausing, Arthur took a deep breath, "you could do that, right?"

Edward frowned. "Of course I can, Arthur, what do you-" He clamped his mouth shut as someone suddenly interrupted their conversation.

"Ah, bonjour, l'Angleterre, l'Amerique!" A voice with strange thick accent greeted. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

The Englishman glared at the newcomer and grabbed his shoulder. "Francis, you frog, yes you interrupted us! Now go mind your own business!" He barked as he shoved the man away.

"Oh?" One of Francis' eyebrow raised, and he winked playfully once. "Then I shall leave and let you two finish whatever I interrupted." As soon as the last word left his mouth, the man was gone in a millisecond, leaving them together again.

Edward looked at the glaring blond strangely, and voiced his thought. "Who was that? And what did he mean by-?"

A slight blush crept to Arthur's cheeks, and he crossed his arms and looked directly into Ed's eyes. "That's Francis, and is definitely one of the people you have to avoid if you don't want to get caught. With Matthew I still can explain; but with Francis it'd probably make me go bald if I had to talk to him about this."

"...Okay, anything more I need to know?"

Sighing, Arthur led him back to the room. "No, that's pretty much all. Anything else, I can tell after the meeting..."

XXX

A/N: ...Yes, I think I deserve a punishment for the time I took for an update -cowers under a desk- But here's another chapter, and even if I don't think that it's a decent enough chapter, I hope you guys enjoy~

Ah, another not here - based on some reviews I got, lots of people are expecting the meeting between Ed with the nations and Al with Mustang; and some of you really have a good idea. So if you have one, just put it about in a review, and I'll provide an extra space for your ideas and credit you :D


	5. Chapter 4

Warning(s): AU, swearing, OOC (hopefully not too much), etc…

A/N: Before things got tangled up and confusing, I'd like to make this clear. The timeline of FMA does not follow the manga, and is more of an Alternate Timeline of the first season; while of Hetalia, I've changed the time from when it was originally around the Cold War, to a bit more future than now.

As for the pairings… I stick on to America/England for Hetalia, but for FMA… I'm having a little bit of conflict here "

Oh, and forgive me if there are lots of errors here—I'm currently having one or two tests per day until Christmas, so for the half part of this chapter… it's probably riddled with grammar errors and such. If you have any time though, feel free to correct them and tell me, so I'll edit it before I dive for a holiday and sleep like the dead :)

Anywho, I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 4**

Alfred blinked twice as the younger Elric pulled him inside. He had been quite enjoying the sight of people walking around the corridor with files in their hands… ah well. If he was going to hang around the place until he figured how to get back to Earth, he'd have plenty more time to get around the HQ…

He whistled as he was kept being dragged into the second room inside the main office. There were four people in the room; three men and a woman. He supposed there should be one more person in the room, as there was one empty - but not at all messy - desk connected with the rest of them. As he gazed at the soldiers, one of them with an unlit cigarette hanging between his lips greeted him. "Morning, boss!" He said with a grin.

He was half-confused as what to reply - Alphonse had told him that Ed wasn't the really friendly person, but friendly enough with people he accepted as friends. And from the way the man just greeted him, he guessed that maybe this man was one in the 'friends' list… "G'morning to you too, man." He grinned back.

Alphonse finally shoved him into the second room, so he didn't quite catch the curious look from the only woman soldier.

"Good morning, Brigadier-General Mustang." The young alchemist greeted, ushering him to one of the black couches. Sensing that he was probably in for another long explanative speech, Alfred happily slumped onto the longest couch with a happy sigh.

"Good morning to you too, Al." The man named Mustang greeted back slightly wryly. "Please, have a seat." After Alphonse was seated next to the American, he then continued, "mind if I ask you what made you delay you two coming here?"

"Um… Brother kind of woke up late and had a few issues to deal with first, Brigadier-General." The younger Elric provided, shifting a bit uneasily. He threw a very brief sidelong glance to the man inhabiting his brother's body, and hoped that Mustang wouldn't notice.

The dark-haired man stayed silent for a moment, seemed to ponder about the excuse. And then he could feel those dark eyes looking directly into his own, and Alfred glanced downwards to the floor. Damn, but he was supposed to be stronger than that! A mere gaze couldn't scare him too much… right?

Somehow he didn't feel entirely convinced with his own statement…

"Fullmetal?"

He looked up as Ed's name was called, and said, "er… yeah?"

Mustang's eyes narrowed slightly, and he could feel the tension rising by a fraction inside the room. Beside him, Alphonse's suit of armor shifted quietly with a clank, and he watched a bit worriedly as the Brigadier-General plopped down into his chair.

"Okay," Mustang began, pinching the bridge of his nose slightly, "I suppose the reason for your lateness could be explained later then. At any rate," he picked up the only brown file lying on his desk, and looked straight into his eyes—again. "This is your next assignment, Fullmetal. Before you start throwing tantrum about this, you're not allowed to bring Alphonse along."

Said man stiffened visibly, but Alfred couldn't find it in himself to protest. So he simply shrugged and said, "well—okay, if that's what written in those papers. Can't do a thing about it, now can I?"

The room went silent immediately as Mustang cocked an eyebrow. And then he stood up and placed his hands on the edge of his table. "Oh really, Fullmetal?"

The younger Elric let out a very quiet choked sound and began to fidget with his gloved fingers. By the way things were happening inside the room—and from the fact that the hair on his nape stood up—Alfred could say that things were _not_ going to go very well.

Then all of a sudden Alphonse practically jerked straight up and blurted out, "I-I can explain, Brigadier-General, I really do! Just-just wait a moment, please?" The obvious hint of desperation in his voice made the young nation frown. What the hell—?

"Please do, Alphonse." Mustang's too calm of a sentence brought his attention back into the man, standing there with his right hand poised in a snapping position. He wore a glove with a red transmutation circle sewn on it, and with the symbol of fire emblazoned right on the top of the shapes, Alfred could tell that whatever was going to happen, if Al hadn't cut to interfere, would not be pretty. At all.

Looking down for a moment, the young alchemist sat down again, and started, "um, well, Brigadier-General, you see..." He threw a glance at the American, and continued, "Brother... isn't really Brother at the moment."

Mustang frowned, looking back and forth between the two men. "Your brother isn't really your brother...? I'm not really sure of what you mean, Al."

Deciding that the black-haired man would probably understand better when the fact was out in the open, Al decided to just pour it all away. "The body is Ed's, General, but the soul inside is not. It's Alfred F. Jones inside; while Brother's soul is probably trapped inside Alfred's body." He explained.

"...What?" The Brigadier-General stared disbelievingly at his subordinate, and stood up quickly. "You two haven't been tinkling with anything connected to human transmutation, have you?"

"No, no, of course we don't!" The young Elric waved his hand in a rapid gesture, calming the soldier somewhat. "We were just doing our usual research and assignments from you... but this morning I found Al inside Edward's body, which I have no idea why." He rubbed the back of his helmet in a nervous gesture, "and as far as I know, attaching soul needs some kind of special array for the transmutation... and I don't think I've ever seen such an array or a circle etched on Brother's body..."

Alfred chanced a brief look on Mustang, who wore an unreadable mask on his face. Then he gulped and braved himself, deadpanning, "you are _not_ thinking about stripping me to check it, Al."

Both men turned to meet his gaze, and he swallowed, thinking that he might just gave them something to try. "For Heaven's sake, I don't know how or why I ended up here in the first place! I have no intention of doing so; nor do I want to switch bodies with Ed!" His hands had started to wail on their own accord, but a firm grip of leathered glove on his right forearm prevented it.

"Calm down, Al. We're not going to do that." Alphonse cooed, and eyed Mustang swiftly, "right, General?"

A bit taken aback by the younger Elric's sudden protective aura, Mustang could only frown and closed his eyes, sitting back into his chair. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he huffed and said, "okay, fine, I'll believe you two. Even if I find your reasons and condition a bit unbelievable." But then he paused and blinked. "But I think I should ask you a question, Alphonse."

"Go on." The young alchemist nodded, curiosity perked by the dark-haired man's inquiry.

"Fullmetal is going to have another mission duty to do," he picked a brown folder from above his desk, "and the terms say that it has to be done exclusively by military personnel."

"It shouldn't be any problem, should it?" Alphonse queried. "We've been doing missions together, and no one seems to complain about it."

By now the American was darting looks from the General to Ed's brother consecutively. A mission was waiting to be done by Edward, and since said man was currently stuck in his own body, then that meant that he was the one to do it. And considering it was a mission solely reserved for Ed from Mustang, somehow it _would_ have something to do with alchemy.

Something he knew by the basics only.

He decided to voice his thought out. "Er, the mission has got something to do with alchemy, right?" And for that, he received two flat looks.

After a few moment of thinking, Alphonse ducked his head slightly in a worried gesture. "Can't you do something… _any_thing about it, General?"

"I've tried, Alphonse, I do." Mustang said in a groan-like voice, "everyone knows that you two are best suited for each other and are on peak performance when together."

"Then couldn't you do anything about it, knowing that our actions would be affected?" The younger Elric countered with a slightly higher level of tone.

Alfred gulped visibly as the Brigadier-General's eyes darkened. He could feel the temperature in the room drop, and there was a staring contest between the two Amestrian.

He bet that Mustang would win.

The older man lowered his face slightly, jaw hidden behind the intertwining of his fingers. Then when he spoke again the American knew why this man was had a position quite high in a young age—if his judgment of his facial features were correct. "What makes you think I have not done such thing, Al?" There was a very subtle hint of warning behind it.

Alphonse caught the reply that was threatening to slip out just in time. Shaking his head, he succumbed into a tired sigh. "I'm… sorry, Brigadier-General. It's… really confusing at the very least, and I still couldn't grasp the concept of it all. Brother usually had something in his mind about every situations, and now that he's not here…" He left the last part out.

The young nation, feeling overwhelmed by all the tension that hung in the air, decided to stand up and get the hell out of the room before he drowned in it. "I'm going out for a while, nowhere far." With that, he half-staggered to the door, grabbing its handle and added, "if it helps, I'll do anything you guys tell me to do, as long as it's within my capabilities or that I'm allowed to understand what I should do." Pride as a hero aside, he had no idea of this world's definition of a hero.

Both Mustang and Alphonse stared at the closed door for a few more seconds before Roy asked for the latter's attention. "Alphonse," he called with a hint of fatigue, "how did it come to be like this?"

The reply was just as wary. "I have no idea, General, I really don't… not to mention that I miss Brother already…" He shook his helmet.

Mustang snorted softly. "Fullmetal really has a knack for making people noticing him, huh."

"That he does." He answered quietly but firmly. Looking straight to the older man's black eyes, he then directed the topic back. "So what are we going to do about this situation, General? You've made it clear that I wouldn't be able to assist Alfred in Brother's next mission; and while I taught him some alchemy basics, he wouldn't survive when confronted with another alchemist!"

The dark-haired man blinked, wide-eyed, before raising his hand in a calming gesture. "Calm down, Al. I know you're worried sick about Fullmetal's whereabouts, and you wouldn't want risking his body when his soul came back—that's why you insist on taking the job to protect him, I assume?"

The younger Elric nodded, helmet clanking in the silence of the room. He hesitated for a moment, before saying quietly, "Brother has a tendency to draw problems wherever he goes… and someone really has to keep him in track. Alfred might be in Brother's body, but people would always view his body as Ed, and I'm not sure if anyone Ed's encountered up until now always has a good opinion on him…"

"Yes," Mustang agreed whole-heartedly, which was an understatement. Fullmetal was his only subordinate who just couldn't keep things quiet on general; but when the situation called for it, he could also be as stealthy as a tiger in hunting. "Now why don't you go and call Alfred, Al? Let him know about this and who's going to keep him safe along his mission."

Had he been in his flesh body, Al would've frowned. "Who?"

Mustang stared at him for a moment, before sighing yet again, running a hand through his dark hair. "Al, I surely can't lend my men to keep him, because what he's about to face isn't just a normal, runaway prisoner; Havoc and the others would not be able to protect him at that rate." He paused a second, "they might, but only for a short moment."

And then he continued again, "and I doubt Alfred would be happy with Major Armstrong as his companion." At the younger Elric's blank look, Roy allowed himself a small smirk.

Alphonse hesitated for a second. "Don't you have any paperwork to do, Brigadier-General?"

Roy sobered right after, and closed his eyes. "I do, Alphonse, and a lot more than ever before. But," he shrugged, "with a case like this, I couldn't really leave Alfred on his own, now could I?" Seeing that the younger alchemist was about to argue, he raised his hand to stop him. "I'll think of an excuse, Al, you don't have to worry. All you need to do is find out a way to get Ed back here before anything bad happens, okay?"

The younger Elric relented, and gave up. There was nothing he could do right now—he would have to leave Roy to take care of things… and while he was at that, maybe he could spare some time to see Winry and Granny Pinako… "I'll call Alfred then."

At Mustang's nod, the boy inside the suit of armor stood up and headed towards the door. Grabbing the handle, he turned it and poked his head out, only to see that the American was nowhere inside the outer part of the office.

It felt like a cold weigh was dumped onto his shoulders as he realized that Alfred could be wandering around the place with no one's guidance. Someone might just came across him and asked him to do things; or he might be questioned about alchemic theories—hundreds of possibilities swam inside his mind before he went with his instincts and decided to make a mad dash towards the door.

But a split second before his right foot started to take him out, Mustang's clear voice defeated his inner voice. "Alphonse, you might want to look at this."

He wanted to ignore the man; but if he did so then the rest of his men would think that something was wrong. So he resigned, and entered the inner office once again. "What is it, Brigadier-General?"

The dark-haired man stood facing the window, probably staring down to the ground. He turned his head just a bit, and the younger Elric could see that a small smile was on his shadowed face. "Come here," he gestured with his hands, and Al followed, looking down to a small lawn.

Alfred, in his brother's body, was bowing over a small patch of flower bush, his head tilted to the side. He was alone down there, too focused to whatever he was currently examining to even notice anyone else. Sighing in relief, his shoulders slumped a little, knowing that Alfred hadn't gotten into any trouble.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Mustang still retaining that barely visible smile, along with a softened edge of his look. Alphonse didn't want to ask about it—he'd be prying into the General's private matter if he did—so he settled for a quiet permission to exit.

* * *

The older Elric walked behind the Briton as he saw that people was beginning to enter the room, a signal that it was about to start. A quick glance into the room confirmed his feeling that it was one _massive _room, and he dreaded things like this.

He knew that there was no reason for him to feel anxious in this World; but he couldn't leave the fact that he lived in Amestris by carrying the sin he and Al had committed, and that the fear of it still haunted him to this day, albeit a bit. Arthur was the only one who knew about Edward Elric; the others still viewed him as Alfred F. Jones—America.

Though Mustang had been covering the Elrics' past with all the authorities he possessed, Ed would never be able to stand it when it was brought above the surface. If, granted, he alone could pay the entire price, then without any hesitation he would take it. But Alphonse—and even Roy—were on stake as well, and he didn't want to ruin their life anymore than it was.

His brother probably wouldn't mind—because Ed was all he had left, but he owed the bastard more than enough; and never once did Mustang ask for return. Outside, he never showed it, seeing it as a weakness for Mustang to use against him and tease him like hell.

Along the years since he first joined the military almost six years ago, Ed had learned more about the real man behind Mustang's mask of indifference. It was, of course, to prevent anyone to find out what he was planning… but it was also a shield for his emotions.

Edward sighed, although Arthur didn't catch it. And to think that it had happened because of a wrong time to throw in his report…

It had been close to midnight when he arrived back at Central after completing his assignment, Ed remembered, and he'd sent Al back into the dorms while he walked grudgingly to submit his report. If he waited for tomorrow then he probably would have to listen to the man commenting his report; but if he gave it now he had a reason to escape: fatigue. Or '_Al's waiting for me in the dorms_', whichever that allowed him to go back as soon as possible.

He'd yanked the door open, not surprised that there was no one inside—it'd been way too late, even for a late-night work. The older Elric had paused in front of Mustang's door, considering to knock. But then he'd shrugged it off, knocked once and entered.

What he'd seen had made him pause on his track. On several occasions, Roy did work late; but Ed had never expected that that night had been one.

The dark-haired man had been asleep on the desk, his forearm the only one preventing his head from the hard wood. Only a very short stack of paper had been left, and the older Elric smirked ruefully, shaking his head.

Dropping his reports to the guest table so that it could be seen the first thing, he'd taken that time as a chance to observe his superior officer closer, without any desk in between.

Just man to man.

In his fast asleep state, he'd noted, the older alchemist looked much younger than his age. There were no traces of frown lines that were probably etched into his face when awake… and there were so many vulnerabilities that Edward had to blink and confirm that it was _really_ Mustang, asleep.

He'd inched closer to the table, just near enough that Mustang wouldn't wake up and find him observing the man. The man looked really peaceful… not innocent, Edward knew that. Mustang had done things that crossed all borders of innocence; but not out of his free will, he hadn't. Those were consequences for being a soldier, Ed guessed.

Sighing, Edward had straightened up again, and went to retrieve the dark-haired man's long overcoat. Draping it over the sleeping figure, he'd also gone so far to throw a few logs into the dying fire before leaving the room with a quiet click.

That was probably the only time Ed saw so much of Mustang's human side; and afterwards, every time the bastard pushed him so far that Ed wanted nothing but to wring his neck, a reminder that Roy was also human behind that mask.

And now that he had to be a member in a meeting that he knew nothing of… despite the fact that he was nervous, the older Elric scowled. Here he was, dragged into a mess he'd never wanted to be a part of.

He was going to make sure that the damned Gate paid for dumping him into this place while he should've been in Amestris, trying to restore Al's body.

Ed followed the Briton into the meeting, scowl and glare not really visible now that he was wearing a pair of glasses. He took an empty seat right next to Arthur, taking in the sight of other meeting participants.

Matthew was seated next to Arthur, that—_creepy_, his mind added—thing of a polar bear hugged tightly to his chest. He shuddered inwardly, going over the previous staring contest with the thing. Giving a wary glance to the furry animal, he turned his attention to the others; found Francis, leaning on his seat with that smile that unnerved him still in place, and lots of people—nations, waiting for the meeting to start slowly.

Having nothing to do, the older Elric slouched back into the chair and closed his eyes. Even though last night's rest was an undisturbed one, the events that had taken place after that were enough to drain its effect all out again.

He tuned out people's talking voices, simply because he understood none at all—he excelled in alchemy, but things like socializing with people wasn't really his forte… So he waited until someone finally took command of the meeting.

Little did he know that Alfred—_him_, in this matter, was the host for the supposed meeting. Opening his eyes, Ed was met with more than five pairs of eyes looking at him expectantly, some more staring oddly with raised eyebrows.

The older Elric opened his eyes fully, and was going to stand up to ask '_what the hell is wrong with you_' until the blond sitting next to him slipped a note underneath the table.

_Stay put and pretend to be sick, Ed, because the git is supposed to start the meeting. I'll try to cover you—just don't pretend to simply catch a cold because he's more than immune to that thing. Say that you have a bad stomachache or whatever._

Edward folded the note and relaxed again into the chair. He sighed; he was lucky that he didn't have to face the nations so soon… especially that _one _tall man that seemed to be emanating a dark and menacing aura. Glancing briefly, he suppressed a shudder of anxiety.

Arthur stood up, his voice commanding attention from the other participants. "May I have your attention, please?" His voice, loud and a bit rough at the same time, pulled all their eyes away from him.

But Matthew was still looking at him, with what looked like worry evident in those eyes. Quick consideration that the Canadian somehow felt like Al made him smile a little and shake his head towards the blond.

"May I ask why you are the one opening the meeting instead of Alfred?" Another voice caught his ears.

The Englishman flicked him a look, and then replied, "he's feeling—unwell."

A skeptical look from the tall nation with a scarf. "Is that it?"

Arthur frowned and scowled, waving a hand in front of Ed's face. "Well if you don't believe me, feel free to ask him yourself."

Edward instantly gulped and prepared himself as soon as that pair of violet eyes bore into his. He managed to croak out, "I—ate something with a long expired date yesterday." _Eh, that came quite natural_, Ed thought to himself.

"See?" The Brit immediately came into rescue.

"So why did you come even though you're sick?" The nation seemed to ignore Arthur's previous comment.

The older alchemist scowled, pushing himself a bit up. "Because," he began in a slightly snide tone, "I know my duties and I know damn well that I could still listen to the other's opinions even though I'm sick."

A sudden and anxious silence ensued, and Ed wondered if he'd said something wrong… but didn't pay it any heed anyway.

"Can we please get on with the meeting, Ivan?" Arthur cut the exchange, glaring invisibly at the nation called Ivan.

Said nation looked at him the last time, before flashing the former pirate a smile. "Please, da."

Edward threw Ivan a miffed look before settling back to calm himself down. The meeting would start any minute now… then he wouldn't have to voice out his thoughts until it ended.

Along the meeting, the Amestrian found that how hard his effort to put his mind at rest was failing miserably. It wouldn't rest at all, running in circles back and forth until he had to clench his fist to distract it.

His ears though, caught a few intriguing topics—peace and war. Whom against whom he didn't listen, and where and when were also out of his range. As long as it didn't involve him, the world may flow away as it liked…

Soon enough the meeting ended, the nations dispersing away from the table and out of the room. The Briton was collecting the papers and folders, and Edward stood up to lend a hand.

"Thanks," Arthur mumbled, not quite looking his way.

He frowned, but still handed the last paper nonetheless. The other nation accepted it with a nod, and led them out of the room.

As they got out of the room, Arthur turned to face him and said, "can you wait here, Ed? I need to go to the bathroom for a while."

"Sure, why not?" He shrugged, and leaned against the wall to watch the Englishman turn at a corner.

Before long, Ed snapped his eyes open and stiffened when he felt a hand placed on his right shoulder. He hadn't heard anyone approaching… he looked up to find Ivan smiling at him, and his blood ran cold.

_I think I'm in trouble… you fucking Gate._

"How are you feeling, Alfred?" Ivan asked smoothly, hand never leaving its place.

Edward could see right through that smile—Mustang was far better in covering his true intentions, and he'd learned to read behind that mask, albeit bit by bit. Ivan's was not so big compared to the bastard's; either that or he didn't really hide it on purpose.

Ed shrugged indifferently, purposely avoiding meeting gaze with the nation. "Still the same," he said simply. He darted a quick look to the corner where Arthur had turned, and hoped that the man wasn't taking much longer… because he was afraid that he'd say the wrong thing and ruin it all; or couldn't contain his annoyance and accidentally lashed out to the wrong man. Not to mention that the corridor was empty of people aside from him and Ivan…

When the grip on his shoulder tightened, he knew that his instinct should be trusted more than anything—his head shot up to look directly into Ivan's, and growled, "what is it that you want, Ivan?"

His smile, if possible, grew wider as he spoke in a singing tone, "ah… nothing." A slight pause, and then he directly face to face with the menacing man, smile—now edging more into sinister—still firmly in place. "Vy prodolzhayete govorit', chto, no ya mogu oschutit' koye-chto, chto nechetnyj... ne igrayet nemoj so mnoj, Al'fredom."

Edward's eyes narrowed, and he glared back to the man. He'd never like being threatened, and hadn't always reacted well when exposed to such circumstances. So Ed straightened himself up the wall, and pushed himself off of it. "Listen, you," he growled again, left hand twitching with anticipation to grab the collar, "I don't know what your fuckin' problem is—"

"Alfred!" Arthur's bark snapped him out and both men turned to face an angry—and gruff—Briton storming into their direction. "That's enough, Al!"

Ivan released his grip on Ed's shoulder slowly, reluctantly, and gave the Brit very brief disturbed look before using that smile Ed hated again. "Just asking him how does he feel, Arthur." He said innocently.

_Innocent my ass, you asshole,_ Edward's mind commented, and the words were on the verge of tumbling out from his mouth.

Arthur looked anything but annoyed. "I think that you've asked him that, Ivan. And you should know better than to confront a sick person."

"Ah, yes, I should remember to… the next time." He agreed, turning to stride off, but not before with biding Ed a goodbye. "Nice to see you, Alfred… and see you soon."

The older Elric caught a glimpse of maniacal grin behind that one, and resisted the impulse to bolt towards him and deck him on the jaw.

After making sure that there was absolutely no one in sight except the two of them, the Englishman spun around and hissed in a low tone, "what the hell do you think you're doing, Ed?"

"He started it," Ed retorted back, not liking the tone. "I was doing nothing when he suddenly—"

"Yes, I know that very well," the former pirate sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I—that's Ivan Braginski, by the way. Never, _ever_, go to him on purpose." He added for emphasize, "avoid him _at all cost_."

Still feeling a bit off by the previous event, Edward nodded reluctantly and looked to the direction of the exit. "I will—try. But can we get out of this place now? I don't think I could stop myself from fighting or snapping back if I met him again today."

Arthur sighed again, and gestured with his head for Ed to follow. "Fine," he said, "well come on then; I wouldn't want to meet him again anyway."

* * *

Translation: Вы продолжаете говорить, что, но я могу ощутить кое-что, что нечетный ... не играет немой со мной, Альфредом. = You keep telling me that, but I can sense something off... don't play dumb with me, Alfred. – courtesy of Google Translate :) If there's something wrong then feel free to correct it.

And… er, I don't know how people wanted to see Ed meeting Ivan, but I hope this one's decent enough… I'm currently having a helluva things swimming around in my head, so pulling this one out takes one off the overloaded mind - _ -"

Er… side-_side_ note… as I've recently got into the Gundam Wing fandom… an idea fell into my head; I'm thinking of mixing it and FMA in a story… anyone interested? It's gonna be a small pet project though, I'm trying to focus on updating this—regularly. _Trying _being the key word here… -headdesks-


	6. Chapter 5  Alfred

A/N: …An update after… three months? -cowers away- I have no excuses, forgive me!

And as an answer…

lilian: where did I spell Britain wrong? I think I only wrote Briton and Brit… as for the former, last time I checked my Oxford dictionary Briton was there; just another way of saying someone from Britain, but it was more of an old way of saying it. Hope this clears up things :)

heblololol: well I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed it :D I'll try to increase my update pace… but first I needed to get past June to get to my next year _

Anyway, to the chapter first part, and I hope you enjoy! …Warning: OOC (a tad bit heavy imo, and… slight tension near the end.

* * *

**Chapter 5 Part I**

Alfred had enjoyed observing the small flower patch, he really did. There hadn't been anyone out there to interrupt him from doing so; and though it might look insignificant for those who never paid any attention to them, it was something he secretly liked doing in his free time. Another thing was, Amestris had a different climate and soil type from America - the difference was quite subtle, but as someone who'd had centuries to learn about flowers, he knew the differences.

How the activity pulled him in was no longer in his memory, but he could still remember doing so to escape the realities of life. Just observing the flowers, when he had nothing to do: sitting there on his garden in his house, shadowed by the towering trees and relaxing in the sheer atmosphere that lingered.

Well, he supposed, he needed to find a way back to Earth in order to do so.

Alphonse had come jogging for him, waving his hand as he did so. The American reluctantly pulled back from one of his favorite pastimes, and followed him back to Mustang's office. This time the journey was silent, save for the quiet clanking of the suit of armor in front of him.

By looking Alfred knew that the hall were swarming with soldiers from wide ranges of ranks, but when he decided to tune it out he was rather surprised with Ed's ability. When he wanted to focus on something, the intensity of it could make him blink and pause to reconsider them all.

Such as when Al said, "I'm going to go to Resembool, Al, but you've got to stay here with the Brigadier-General," he could easily pick it up as if they were speaking in an empty room.

Then three seconds passed, and his mind backpedaled to realization a few steps that he almost stumbled forward. "Wait, what?" No chance to stop his mouth from blurting the first thing after Alphonse's statement hit home.

They were a few corners away from Mustang's office by then, so the younger Elric turned back and slowed his pace. For a moment the two stared directly at each other; and while Alfred didn't know how to decipher an expressionless look of two small gaps that functioned as eyes, he was more than sure that he saw a guilty look flew past. For what, he had no idea.

"Well," the young alchemist began, pace finally as quick as a normal walk, staring to the ground and rubbed his helmet. "You heard what the Brigadier-General said, didn't you Al? I can't accompany you as long as you're in this mission, and it'd look too suspicious for me to hang around Central HQ without Ed." He glanced up again, "so I'm visiting Resembool while you're gone, and I'll be continuing me and my brother's research there."

The nation frowned. "So I have to stay here and do the mission while you're away?" Alphonse's nod was his answer… but after a moment of consideration and dread seeping through, "…with _Mustang_?"

Alfred didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but that last word brought two opposite reactions from himself. His soul was - simply put - afraid of the thought that he'd be spending his days with the black-haired man; not fear because of physical harm. Second type reaction was from a small portion of his mind and his body, who responded a bit too eagerly that changed the tone when he'd said '_Mustang_.'

Goddamn but he was fried thoroughly and crisply.

Another thing: drawing conclusion from the second fact mentioned before, he also didn't want to spend his time with Mustang of fear of doing something unexpected, inappropriate, unnerving and lots of other things. He was very much in control of Ed's body, but for some reason Ed's body and a part of his brain had its own self control.

Say, like this, for instance: he didn't want to (_if_, this happens, Alfred reminded himself, _if_) stay in Mustang's house when he had his share of nightmares. So far there was none that he'd ever experienced, but he definitely didn't want his first nightmare in Amestris to be in Mustang's house. Alfred knew very well how he reacted when nightmares assaulted his night - thrashing, wailing, whining and to some extent, sobbing.

Since he mostly lived alone, there was no one to comfort him from the shaking aftermath, and he'd learned to cope with it. Sometime he could jerk awake in the middle of the night, panting and sweating while clutching the covers of the bed. He didn't know what Ed's nightmares were, and he didn't want to think about it now… especially when it involved _ghosts_.

Alphonse's "yes" derailed his trains of thoughts back into the right track. That thought grew a bit too… fast and big, and his main concern wasn't even answered-

"You'll be staying with the Brigadier-General, Al, not in the apartment."

-yet.

Perfect timing, Alfred noted sarcastically. _Give me a small consolation prize for guessing this would be happening, why don't you?_ He thought humorlessly, pausing in front of the door as Al opened it.

When he could finally look inside, there were two more empty seats, he noticed. The man that was smoking cigarettes, and… the slightly fat one? Their names Alfred still had not known, and it'd help to know people's names when the situation called for it.

The other door that led into Mustang's personal office was slightly opened, and the woman Lieutenant was speaking with her commanding officer. The younger Elric saw this too and he stopped, knocking on the door.

"Brigadier-General? Ed's here now… can we come in or not?"

Mustang's sharp and curt bark, "come in," made the Lieutenant step aside gracefully, allowing the black-haired man to see them. There was a brown folder clasped tightly to her chest, as if afraid to let the context be known to the World.

The two newcomers took their respective seat on the black couch, and Mustang's hushed conversation with Hawkeye went unheard by them. Then the black-haired man made a few quick hand gestures, before the blonde Lieutenant finally nodded firmly and saluted, turning on her heels to leave the room. She passed the two men and gave a little smile.

Alphonse was still staring at the closed door with curiosity, but Alfred made it in time to catch the last sign of scowl at the Brigadier-General's usually stoic face. The man himself didn't seem to notice that Alfred had noticed, because it wasn't until the younger Elric turned back did his face returned to its usual look.

Maybe it was a problem in the office, Alfred assumed; he knew how hectic and pressuring a soldier above the rank of Colonel's workload could be. Judging from Mustang himself, reaching his position right now with his age required a lot of hard work… and lots of coaxing, here and there. His cool and smooth aura added one more point to Al's mind that had the man been on Earth, _lots _of people would be eating from the palm of his hand.

Then he was reminded by Alphonse's generalization of the military back at the apartment… Roy Mustang, looks and personalities included, was THE womanizer of Central.

But a usually lazy soldier at that, he remembered - so maybe someone was always there to push him forward… Hawkeye, perhaps?

The American kept pondering about that and other trivial things, until he felt a hand grabbed his shoulder and shook him out of his stupor. Blinking, he saw Mustang's amused look from the corner of his eye, eyebrows raised and a small smirk tugging at his lips.

In an instant to hide the blush that was beginning to creep to his cheeks, the nation ducked his head and copied the man's action - he raised his eyebrows as well. He could only hope that it was enough to cover the embarrassing reaction…

So fine, he'd admit it - to himself, at least: Mustang had a more-than-decent look, one that he'd never seen before - not in Earth, not in the almost four centuries he'd lived.

But hell, so was Edward - gold eyes like the Sun and equally vibrant hair was something he'd never see back in his home planet. His crazy plan: throw both Ed and Roy to Earth and dump them into Hollywood. While Ed probably… wouldn't like it one bit, Alfred was sure that either Roy got _success_, or he'd end up as a top politician at that.

…He was straying far away again, wasn't he.

Barely catching, "-the library and let him take some books back here," the American gave up on even getting a glimpse as to what the Brigadier-General and Alphonse were engaged in.

Library meant books, and books meant studying, and studying meant either alchemy or history though he far preferred the former. He couldn't find any use for the latter if brought back home - what the hell, nobody in Earth would have a single damn idea what Amestris was. And no one would ask him such a question anyway.

But alchemy - it intrigued him. There was no such thing in Earth - sure, there was that Flamel thing he once read in the books… but Human Transmutation, Homunculus and Ouroboros?

Damned if he knew. Archaeology, aviation and technology leave it to him; medieval science simply wasn't his forte.

But there was just something in it… he hadn't tried performing complex alchemy yet, but if from reading he could already imagine the surge of energy that flowed through the circle and his body, what could the first experience feel like? Also the art of the transmutation circles; there were so many elements that could be contained within one, and different placing and combinations could produce varying results.

Equivalent Exchange: what he gave, he received back. That law seemed to be universal in this World, especially to alchemists - the Elric brothers were a witness to that merciless law. After all, how could a life that was taken by whatever up there be paid with something alive in the mortal World? Impossible, that he knew, but human's mind had no limit; it was in their mind that people were truly free.

Back to Mustang and Al… while, by the way, he was spacing out. None of the words had entered his head throughout the whole talk, and he felt a bit guilty and stupid.

Alphonse was going to leave him at Central alone with Mustang. Alfred knew alchemy basics - transmute things, basic components of stuffs and the law and price needed. He'd learned several transmutation circles, but Alphonse had pointed out that Edward didn't need to draw any transmutation circles in order to perform alchemy. Clap the hands with the circle in mind, and all that was left was the object. Done.

In battle or dangers that required immediate response, he had no idea. Mustang probably only needed his gloves and _fire_ - Edward's weapons, or Fullmetal as he was widely known, were supposed to be originating from steel… his automails? Transmuting them into weapons?

Actually… that seemed like a _good _idea… or even the fact itself.

Unbelievable stuffs that could only be found on movies and fantasies: changing prosthetic limbs into weapon and creating fire from a hand… Alfred grinned. Okay, learning it might be hard as hell, but the outcome… was more than worth the process. Shame the act was disabled on Earth…

_Just to kill time, no harm done, _Alfred thought lightly, bringing his gloved hands together quietly as not to disturb his two companions. Almost no effort was needed when he tried to think of one basic circle that he'd read on the book earlier - an image sprang into his mind, ready for action. He looked around for an experimental object, and decided that a simple table would do.

Releasing his hands, Alfred hesitantly held them over the table, hovering for a while. No idea what to transmute the table into, he just placed them on the wood and yelped when he felt said material crumble beneath his palms.

Wrong, _wrong _move.

A sudden surge of panic jolted through his body, and he frantically scrambled for another circle to fix it.

Mustang's dry yet amused voice broke over his concentration. "It was nice seeing you try your first transmutation, Alfred, but I don't think anyone walking into my office would like to see a half-crumbled table."

The nation shot him a half-baleful look, clapping his hands together again. Another new circle came into his mind, and now that he knew what to transmute into, he placed his hands onto the broken material.

He watched in awe as blue circle appeared beneath the splinters, forming a delicate array with bright sparks accompanying it. The whole material looked like they were swallowed into the circle and sparks, and after it disappeared, a new, pristine table stood before him.

Just… it wasn't the same as the rest of the table.

Alfred turned a sheepish look towards the black-haired man, letting out a nervous laugh. "Uhm… oops?"

Instead the man just chuckled, shaking his head. "Not bad for the second attempt, Alfred… I'm impressed." The tone he used when saying that betrayed nothing whatsoever. "Even if the result was a bit… different from the rest of the table."

Vaguely he heard Alphonse joined in the chuckle, helmet clanking against the neck protector quietly. "I agree with the Brigadier-General, Alfred - that wasn't bad at all. You probably transmuted it into the table in your World." The younger Elric pulled out a chalk and drew a circle on the table's surface. "Here, let me fix it."

After the second alchemy within the office, the table was back to normal… and the two were out again, heading to the National Library.

Beads of sweat trickled freely down his face from the mere effort in getting some of the books on the upper shelves. In his hands Alfred had a list of books he should grab and bring to the office. Upon reaching the fourth of the list, the American had already given up. Titles were titles but the description below, albeit short and to-the-point, wrecked his head.

"Take it easy, Alfred, you've got time," the younger alchemist suggested, noticing the troubled look on his brother's face. "The Brigadier-General only told you to bring all those books back so you wouldn't have returned again and again." He paused, "in Brother's case though… he seemed to enjoyed annoying Ed off, what with sending him here and there." Ended with a nonchalant shrug.

The American, too tired to say something, simply nodded dumbly. He was walking with a slow pace to recover his lost energy, but hadn't been successful in doing that as the weight of the books and automail kept dragging him down. At least he wasn't swaying, Alfred told himself to lift his spirits. Usually going to the library didn't drain his energy so much as his spirit… but it was back in his own body, so comparing it wouldn't matter. Edward's body probably only came up to his chin, the stuck-up antenna reached his nose.

Since his hands were full and he was in front of Al, nobody could help him to open the door that led into Mustang's office. Nudging the wood with his left foot, Alfred sighed when it didn't budge at all. So he resorted to do it the classical way - pulling said foot back, he kicked the door open with a loud _slam _- and grimaced when it hit the wall and bounced back, though not going as far as closing again. Passing through the gap, he offered a dry smile at the woman Lieutenant who was raising one of her eyebrows.

Giving a quick glance at the door, there was one visible dent the shape of an imperfect circle… It was then that the fact that Ed's left foot was automail registered on his brain. Feeling stupid for forgetting such a trivial thing, he said, "sorry, Lieutenant, I'll just put these down and fix it back."

He swiftly crossed the room into Mustang's personal office - this time opening the door with his shoulder - dropped the books onto the table and turned right back, trying to ignore the dark-haired man's amused look. He stopped under the doorframe, noticing that Alphonse was already taking care of the problem.

The younger Elric was in a squatting positing, drawing an array with a chalk on the dent. Puzzled, the nation frowned. Alphonse still needed a transmutation circle to perform alchemy, and Roy had one sewn into his gloves… did that mean that Ed was the only one who could perform it without any visible circles?

Mustang's deep voice cut over his thoughts, though not loud enough to be heard by the blonde Lieutenant who was now examining the door that he'd kicked. "You certainly did similar things as Fullmetal, Alfred… I suppose you wouldn't have any problem convincing the others that you're still him, then."

That caught his attention. He turned, leaning against the wall. "Such as?" He enquired, a small grin tugging at his lips. The pose seemed like one the body did frequently, as he found the smooth and easy action relaxing.

"Oh, nothing much," Mustang waved his hand in the air freely, "he _does _tend to overreact when people even imply that he's _short_." Final, not-too-subtle emphasis on the last word, just to satisfy himself; Mustang smirked inside.

Deny it as much as he was allowed with his mind, Alfred - Ed's body - reacted immediately at the word '_short_' and jerked away from the wall, crossing the distance between the wall and the dark-haired man's desk in a few steps. Placing - not so hard as slamming - his hands down the flat surface, he growled, "just who the hell are you calling _short_, bastard?" The response was so easy and the retort tumbled out effortlessly like water down a fountain, and that certainly gave him a reaction Alfred would've never guessed.

The older alchemist looked at him wide-eyed, though not in a terrifying way. It was something the blond defined as thoroughly amused. Both eyebrows raised and fingers intertwined, the man leaned forward from his seat. Full-blown smirk and an expression that translated as anything but challenging, Mustang whispered lowly, "_you_, Fullmetal."

In a momentary moment of panic, Alfred's brain halted into a stop and he could think of no retort. Memories jumbled through his mind; the one that started when he woke up here mixed with distant ones, probably Edward's. The logical side of his brain screamed at him to back off, but he was truly entranced by Mustang's look. He forced a lump down his suddenly dry throat, watching as those dark eyes flitted downwards following the movement before returning back. It half-reminded him of the moments Arthur had his pirate-flashback; the one that meant something else was hidden behind.

Then as if someone slapped him with a wood, the American stumbled back, almost tripping over his feet in order to escape that capturing gaze. Brain kicked into gears again, he stared - partly in horror, partly in understanding - widely at the Brigadier-General.

Just a moment ago it felt like someone was also looking through his eyes, two different souls colliding into one. It didn't fuse, separated by an invisible barrier that kept the souls together just next to each other. Nevertheless both were also terrified - not in a bad way - on what would happen next if Alfred kept unmoving from his previous spot.

He barely remembered that the door was slightly open, too busy to calm his heart that threatened to fail at any moment now. He needed distance, _immediately_. _Anything_. Anything that allowed him to be as far as possible from this man that was Roy Mustang.

The tension hung thick in the room, and Alfred coughed in an attempt to cover the need to groan and choke. Scooting back to the black couch, the blond dropped himself gracelessly and cursed. Goddamn but he'd just humiliated himself in front of a mere human; him, a nation, _America_!

He bet that Arthur would've _laughed _his ass off when he saw him flustered and shaken like this. Centuries had gone by without him backing off from a challenge, especially unspoken, but this?

He blamed Edward's body partly for making him act like this.

Braving a glance to the older alchemist, Alfred sighed in relief that the man had already returned to resume his paperwork. He didn't know if he could face the man again so soon… nor he was confident at his ability to speak normally if the event repeated itself over and over again in his mind. It was enough if he could speak without pausing every once in a while; if a blush was added to the combination then he'd preferred dying in a war than faced with a situation like this.

His hand aimlessly went to grab a book that he'd placed before, grateful for the silence. It provided him with a distraction and a reason to force his hammering heart quiet, momentarily drowning in a sea of knowledge. The words provided him comfort and safety from the World revolving around him… Alfred let a small relieved smile, finally reaching a calmer and more relaxed state.

Two knocks and he barely raised his head to look at the newcomer. He knew it was Alphonse, returning after repairing the dent he'd made - accidentally, he insisted to himself. He forgot that Ed's left leg was made from automail, so what? At least he hadn't kicked anyone on the shin with the prosthetic limb… that would surely hurt as hell. Quadruple it if it came to a knee in the groin.

The couch shifted beside him, but the American made no move to do anything else besides continuing the book. Alphonse's tall and spiky suit of armor was hard not to notice, and since the younger Elric didn't seem to want to start a conversation Alfred left it at that.

Books were also one of those things that he could be immersed in when alone, including archaeology, plant stuffs and _games_. The last one he couldn't even express his joy in full, because anything mankind ever wanted could be inside those games. He knew they were fantasy not reality, but it was in fantasy that he could _really _be free, specially his mind.

…Even if some of those RPGs Kiku suggested were brain-wracking.

A gloved hand touched his shoulder, and he looked up. Alphonse held a set of keys on the hand, dangling from a keychain. Alfred looked at them questioningly but opened his palm anyway, receiving the keys before pocketing them away.

"They're the duplicate of the apartment's keys, if in any case you want to get iback n." Al explained.

Closing the book single-handedly, the nation frowned slightly. "Why ever would I go back '_in any case_'?-" Catching himself, memory sank deep inside, and a warm feeling spread through his face. He willed it down with every grain of will he had. "Oh yeah - I'm staying with Mustang." It sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

The younger alchemist noticed nothing out of the ordinary, so continued nonetheless, "I'll be leaving with the evening train, and I've called Winry and Granny Pinako. I think I wouldn't be too long there… after all, we have an objective to complete; me and Ed."

His reply was a nod; he knew it very well. Edward needed to restore his brother into his flesh body (where a Philosopher's Stone in Earth could be he had no idea, but maybe there was another solution?), but he… well. Whatever was his goal in Amestris he would find out, sooner or later.

Satisfied with Alfred's answer, Alphonse stood up, excusing himself. "Well then, I think I should be going… thanks for taking care of him, Brigadier-General." He ended with a curt bow.

Mustang replied in the same manner, if a bit subtler. "The same goes to you too, Alphonse, take care."

The suit of armor walked quietly towards the door, closing it with a soft click. A suit of armor that huge could do some things gentler than a human, Alfred pondered nonchalantly… but then again, it was only a young boy inside, so what did he expect?

His eyes strayed _again _to the dark-haired soldier. If someone happened to walk in at this moment, Mustang would've looked anything but dedicated to his job. The nation knew better, though - from the stories he'd heard and was told, and for the fact that the man seemed to divert his attention into something else every now and then.

Which, much to his dismay, was Alfred himself - _again_.

Pretending to read the book, he flipped to the marked page. The feel of someone's watching gaze on your back was pretty unsettling, he understood, but he very well couldn't say anything about it, now could he? There was no way in Hell that he'd chance an event like the previous one, clearly.

Or maybe, he mused, lips moving a bit, that it wasn't really directed at him to unnerve him. Mustang wouldn't get any advantage taunting him, so what was that for? And he was called '_Fullmetal_', anyway…

Alfred paused, slowly looking up to the older alchemist with an almost blank face.

Was it directed to _Edward_ then, _that_ look?

* * *

A/N: Okay, have to split it up here. Edward's portion will come up shortly (as in, a week at most), else it'd be too long for my liking. Not so much of a progress here… only Al leaving for Resembool… err, yes, by now you should be able to see my orientation _ Hope that the Alfred-Roy interaction came out acceptable… I think I made Alfred a little bit too OOC…

And, if you don't mind… review, please? :) If anything goes wrong don't hesitate to tell me, I'd be more than happy to edit it for people to read it better!


	7. Chapter 5 Edward

A/N: So… here it is, Ed's part... After a whole half-year. And probably another few months for the next update.

(Edit 19/8/2011: Thanks to _Silvermoon of Forestclan_ for pointing out a glaring typo!)

**Chapter 5 - Part II**

Propping his chin with his left hand, Edward stared at nothing outside. The scenery passed through like a blur, never once paying any attention to the green view. Arthur was the one doing the driving beside him, since he couldn't drive a car straight back in Amestris - even a steam car, mind you. This World's technology seemed to be far more advanced than the one in Amestris; just look at all the _towering _buildings (…skyscrapers?) and cars with… fossil fuel, those flying planes that soared up in the sky…

He hadn't really noticed it until this time; all those differences that existed between the two places. Well one was blatantly obvious: there was no way of doing alchemy in this place.

Efficiency on creating something instantly was naught, but he'd learned that this place made up with producing things in an outstanding speed. Not only speed, but once the process began, the amount of output produced was equal to close the gap between alchemy and this world.

No matter though, he had no intention of switching from his preferred art. Maybe learning it could do him some good, one he could bring back to Amestris. Technology was absolutely a yes: if he managed to adapt what he would learn here to those in Amestris, then the country would have a better chance on defending itself from assaults.

Edward halfway thought that he was doing the military a favor by being here and studying... and mused that maybe the bastard had any hand with this problem. Ever since the beginning that he'd enlisted to the military, _almost _anything that he'd ever done, Mustang would know. Any move, any city... that man probably had spies everywhere.

He doubted there were any of those spies here. For starters, espionage in this place was top-notch - he'd seen extra-classified spies back in his World, especially with missions concerning Drachma. They could wear civilian clothes, but their movements were too stiff compared to normal citizens. It'd been easy to distinguish them: blend with the surroundings and they'd lose it completely. Avoiding them had also honed his skills at noticing when someone followed him; it tingled and made him uneasy.

The very same tingling sense had also been bothering him ever since he'd stepped into that building, but he couldn't pinpoint anyone. A quick glance every now and then still hadn't relieved him, and it drove him edgier with each passing moments.

Back in the meeting room, it had vanished completely, only to be replaced by the constant straining himself under that polar bear's - and _Ivan_'s - scrutiny. Granted, the two were nowhere near him now, and the watched feeling was subsiding… well yeah, they were in a _speeding _car, who in their right mind would chase them all the way just to keep an eye on him?

So he simply sighed, giving up on his thoughts. Prodigy, people called him; but on several occasions he would also need the time to think things over, and what he should be doing in Earth was on of those occasions.

Unable to find anything to distract him, Edward decided to direct his attention to the thing below the so-called air conditioner. He'd seen Arthur press a few buttons; a red one then a green arrow pointing to the right and then he could hear the sound of music playing... he briefly wondered if he could tinkle with it a bit and see what would be.

At the last moment Ed simply thought '_The hell with it_' and pressed the green double-arrow, causing a blaring beat of a drum from the speakers in front of him; and Arthur nearly barreled straight to a road divider.

"What did you do, you git!" The Brit snapped at him, stepping on the gas after the sudden break that sent the both of them lurching forward... they were just lucky the seatbelts were on and the airbags didn't inflate. "I was enjoying listening to some classic music and you -!"

The older Elric scowled and huffed, "chill out, no need to yell that loud, y'know." He pressed the green double-arrow pointing to the left - by now he'd figured out that right meant forward one station, and left meant backward one station - returning the slow music. Edward cringed; that song would be a good tool to wake up soldiers from their sleeps and sent them rocketing out of their beds...

His finger lingered just a while longer on the button he'd just pressed, and bit his lip. There was no problem with the finger, really; what he was considering about was that he could feel the slightly protruding surface of the button. Automail did not grant such luxury of the sense of feeling, except near the ports' area - but why would he need to feel around that specific area anyway.

Nevertheless, Edward retracted his hand back, and rubbed on his forearm. Not because he was cold, per se, it was an act born mostly out of habit: he had never liked people knowing that he had a prosthetic limb - all the stares and disgusted and weird looks - it unnerved him, and though he usually acted carefree like those opinions were nothing to him, it was a cover-up. As if having longer-than-usual blonde hair was not enough, his gold eyes also attracted more attention than he liked.

Contrary to the mass opinion, Edward Elric knew how they viewed him: a child in an adult world, not-so-human, and others he preferred not to think about.

Maybe here, on Earth, this Alfred guy's body that he was currently inhabiting was not someone who showed up, and could blend in more...

...Well... huh. Seemed like the trip still had a long way to go; might as well close his eyes first.

As the young alchemist closed his eyes, a flitting image of a smirking Colonel Bastard blitzed in the darkness, but the surprise wasn't enough for him to open his eyes again.

XXX

When he opened his eyes, Edward realized that they were slowing down, pulling into a driveway of a...

The blond leaned forward, looking at a massive staircase and grand entrance (near that of Central HQ) that was Alfred's house.

(He didn't notice it when he first left this place because Arthur was busy shoving him head first into the goddamned stuffy car. It was fast, yeah, but not spacey enough!)

The car had pulled into a complete stop, but Edward still hadn't moved from his position, too busy calculating the size of the front yard. Never mind that - the whole house was probably as large as the Fuhrer's mansion, which, in return was almost half the size of Central HQ.

People in this country (America?) really had some land to spare, didn't they. And this was just the city's outskirts; he did not want to think of how _enormous _the village area could be. The whole country might pose a challenge to the total area of Xing, if he had to admit.

A knock on the window jerked him out of his reverie, and Ed saw a slightly scowling Arthur standing outside the car, one hand on his hip... probably annoyed that he didn't step out of the car immediately. A set of key dangled on the Brit's fingertips, and as Edward fumbled with his seatbelt he couldn't help but notice the difference between Amestris' and the Earth's keys.

When he finally got out of the car (and took a quick view of the car, admiring the sleek and jet-black color), the Briton was already on the steps leading to the entrance. The young alchemist was about to call him, inquiring about leaving the car unlocked, but didn't have any chance to, as a loud 'beep' nearly made him jump out of his skin.

Edward stared at the car for a few seconds, and then just followed the Englishman into the house. He didn't spare a glance at the car; and at the moment he didn't want to know about the technologies - it was too far ahead, he was happy with alchemy, thank you.

Closing the wooden door with a click, he also made sure that the lock was properly inserted into the slot. Taking off the brown bomber jacket, the Amestrian found a newspaper (the second one today... was it possible to have two different newspaper for a day? It wasn't like the news were any different anyway.) and grabbed it on the way to the main room.

The Englishman was nowhere in sight... the older Elric guessed that he might be in the kitchen, on the backyard, or up there on the second floor taking care of whatever his business was. It wasn't that strange, really; no one in their right mind would like to spend too much time in the company of a foreign soul inhabiting their... friend's body.

Edward shrugged, flopping down onto the leather couch - and was almost overwhelmed by it. This thing probably did not have any spring to support him, it was like diving into a whole sea of foam!

After quite a few futile attempts to get a comfortable position, with a resigned sigh Edward let himself be. His knee was higher than his butt, and he was almost in a sleeping position... He did not want to know how awkward he must've looked like. Damnit, he was not used to these kinds of furnitures!

Yanking open the newspaper, his eyes skimmed over most of the content (how the hell was he supposed to know about the news - Arizona, Florida hit by a storm - when he himself had no clue of his condition?)

Then he looked up to the right corner of the front page, and his eyes bulged off.

_June 29th, 2015_

Edward facepalmed and shook his head, groaning miserably. Bad enough he was sent to a different world beyond the Gate; the damn thing just had to hurl him into the future also! No wonder the technology was so far advanced... He was fairly sure that he was in for a case of culture shock sooner or later.

A sharp scent of black coffee assaulted his nose, and he looked up to find Arthur holding a white porcelain cup. Said man raised an eyebrow at his expression, and paused in his drinking to ask, "do you want coffee or tea?"

Muttering a thank you, the Amestrian accepted the coffee offer, but then paused to sniff it first. Wrinkling his nose, Ed asked, "no milk, right?"

The Englishman shook his head, taking a seat on the more-solid-looking couch beside him. "No; Alfred would've liked a ton of sugar cubes and several spoonfuls of milk, but since I didn't know your taste I didn't put anything. Feel free to add what you want from the kitchen though."

"Good then." The young alchemist grinned, and downed a quarter of the content. "I like it black, but a few sugar cubes would be nice." Pause, then a sip, "as long as there's no milk."

After that, silence engulfed the both of them, not too thick and also comfortable. The ex-pirate took the second part of the newspaper that Edward hadn't touched yet, and began reading also.

Nevertheless, Edward, whose curiosity would never be fully sated (a consequence of being a scientist, and he was proud of it), lowered his newspaper which had yet to be finished, then said, "so, err... Don't this Alfred guy has any work to do?"

Not that he didn't like not working (Mustang must've rubbed off on him on this), he just couldn't shake off the gut feeling that he _was _supposed to be doing some work, not just sitting here and drinking some coffee...

Arthur considered this for a few moment, before answering, "well, yes, I suppose. I've been here to give the git a hand, but I guess you should learn more about the USA if you don't want the others to realize that something's wrong."

"History?" Edward supplied helpfully, downing the rest of the black liquid.

"That," a nod, "and also the current situation: economy and politics, mainly. I'll be helping with the politics, but economy's more or less out of my hands."

The Amestrian's face fell a bit; he'd never liked to deal with official works - Mustang and his team were the ones that dealt with those stuff on his daily basis, as Ed himself was more of a field person. He accepted missions and assignments, and had never bothered with the itinerary - as long as the goal was completed with minimal civilian casualties, then he deemed it a success.

(But the Colonel Bastard _always _had something to say about it, the man was such a prick when it came to works done by Ed himself. At least Riza was also there to keep the man in line.)

"Any international affairs?" Edward asked again, a hint of hope seeping into the sentence. At least this was more interesting, albeit more boring...

The Brit placed the porcelain cup back onto the table (from the brown content it was probably tea), and shrugged lightly. "There are some, though they're not really major right now. As always it's Russia you should keep an eye on, and China for being one of your main competitor in the economic field."

He was trying to remember that guy who looked very similar to himself back at the meeting, he really was... but soon gave up. "The guy with the polar bear?"

The blond who sat beside himself chuckled shortly. "Who, Canada? Matthew?" At Edward's confirmation he kept chuckling, "he's going to find out that you're not Alfred, I'm sure of it - they're twins, and though they might have a contrast personality you could never underestimate the bond they shared... He's going to be a great ally - or friend, might I add - when the time comes, Ed."

"As long as he doesn't bring that freaky pet of his, I'm sure we could work together." The older Elric hastily added. One encounter was enough, he didn't want a repeat, thank you very much.

"Ah," the Brit sobered up at the mention of the 'freaky pet', "I'm afraid that it's up to him to bring Kumajirou or not... rest assured, it wouldn't harm anyone."

(Ed thought he heard an almost inaudible "until Matthew commanded it anyway.")

The younger blond considered this for a moment... He had no problem telling this so-called Matthew, to be honest; if Alfred and Matthew were twins it was even better. He and Alphonse shared a very close and trusting bond, and if Arthur's commentary was anything to judge, then it was hopefully safe to tell his secret.

Hopefully Matthew would be able to help, too. He needed to return back to Amestris quickly - Al was still trapped in a suit of armor, so they still had to find a way to restore him to his original body. If it meant not able to restore his automails, then fine, he could live with it. As long as his brother was flesh and blood again, he would endure what it took to do so - even being in the military for the rest of his life.

(Sometimes when he was sent to a brand new place, it was a quite exhilarating experience, too - but he would never admit it directly in front of the bastard.)

Then without any warning whatsoever, a thought crashed into the front of his brain and the words stumbled out before he could even stop to form a correct sentence, "do you know anything about the Philosopher's Stone?"

Arthur stared at him.

Edward stared unflinchingly back. Years under Mustang's command taught him how to utilize your eye movement to the max.

"You know..." Arthur began slowly, frowning, but he still spoke flatly, "I would answer that like a dumb twat - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, first book in the series - but I doubt that that's what you meant."

"'Course not," the blond scowled, "I'm not asking for some dumb fiction books; I'm asking for the real thing." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"And what would you need to know that for?" The counter was as quick and as direct.

"Well I..." He trailed off, finding himself unable to finish it. He'd left out the part about the Stone when he'd first told Arthur about their story... "I need it to get back home. At the moment it's the only thing capable of granting me the ability to perform alchemy again."

"...Oh." The Briton nodded slowly, as if a bit uncertain. "That... you do know that no one's ever found the real Philosopher's Stone, right Ed?"

"I know that very well, thanks," the blond replied, half-annoyed. "It comes in a few different shape, and believe me, there are a helluva people out there who wouldn't know how to differentiate the fake from the original."

The ex-pirate wanted to point out that such a thing was unknown to most people, he really did. But he let the Amestrian continue again. It was never polite to cut someone off in the middle of their speaking - except when the circumstances called for it.

"Not to mention that to produce such a thing is nearly impossible..." The blond mumbled, mostly to himself, but Arthur could still hear it.

He decided it was a good time to cut in.

"Whatever it is, I doubt you would find it in the USA - here, I mean - maybe you should go back with me to Europe and check the libraries there. You could probably find some leads to the Stone... but I don't guarantee anything, though." The older blond explained carefully.

"Really? When?" Edward perked up at the mention of a library. This was his chance to check a foreign library! - hopefully it was even bigger than Central's, and even more wide-ranged!

"One or two more weeks..." Shrugging, the ex-pirate shot a look on the Amestrian. "Now to your work..."

Edward deadpanned, "you've got to be kidding me. You raised my hope for a library, and then tell me to get to work."

Nevertheless, he got up from the foam-like couch and grumbled along the stairs up.

XXX

A/N: Next update... still a long way to go. I haven't been to Hetalia for ages (the fandom's exploded), so I'm writing this based on my experience of the characters about a year ago...

Anyway. Point out grammar and typos, yes? ^^


	8. Author's Note

So. Err... this isn't a chapter, obviously...

I just want to say that the previous chapters will be taken down some time around April to be rewritten. I haven't been to Hetalia and FMA for quite a while now, so the rewritten ones will probably look different. Not to mention that my previous preference to slash has diminished, so the Roy/Ed and US/UK will (probably) not going to be there... so much.

(Since I still get a PM/review every once in a while, and since one of the fandom is still alive...)

This note will be deleted once I've gotten all the revised chapters up, hopefully around May.

Thank you for your attention; and I am sorry to those who expected a new chapter.


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